


Dead by Daylight: One shot Collections and Mini Stories

by LeftHandersRule



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asphyxiation, Attempt at Humor, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Biting, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Coming Out, Competition, Crushes, Crying, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Dry Orgasm, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Gay Sex, Gore, Grinding, Homophobic Language, Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Love Confessions, Lube, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Men Crying, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Massage, Public Masturbation, Racing, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Humor, Smut, Some Humor, Swearing, Wall Sex, mild asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftHandersRule/pseuds/LeftHandersRule
Summary: Just some one shot's I'll make about Dead by Daylight. There are extra parts to some chapters, so read the notes just in case. Requests or prompts are welcome. If you have something you'd like me to write, throw it my way. If if it interests me, I'll write it.I also write about Dwight a lot, because I main as him typically. So expect a lot of him.I got a tumblr too recently, so I'll probably be posting artwork on there every now and then. So if you'd like to see some of my art, my tumblr is "lefthandersruletheworld".
Relationships: Claudette Morel/Jake Park, Dwight Fairfield/Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face, Dwight Fairfield/Jake Park, Dwight Fairfield/Meg Thomas, Jake Park/Quentin Smith, Kate Denson/David King, Michael Myers/Jake Park, Nea Karlsson/Meg Thomas, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 160
Kudos: 216





	1. Dwight: Lover Boy (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about Dwight. It kind of came out as Dwight x Meg, which wasn't intended, but if you want to take it that way go for it. I'll let you make it be whatever you want it to be.

Five Generators, four survivors, two escape doors and one killer. Dwight thought the trial would be easy, well, easier than normal. The entity made all the survivors spawn pretty close together, so they found each other nearly immediately. So, at the very start of the trial, Dwight and the others set up a game plan. Ace and Nea would travel to the other side of the trial grounds. There they'd work together and do two or three generators, depending on how many are on that side of the map. Meanwhile, he and Meg would work on the generators on their side. 

They didn't know which killer they'd be facing, so Dwight reminded everyone to keep their eyes and ears open, ready for any sound. 'Watch your step', he had reminded them. Trapper was crafty with his bear traps, Wraith can turn invisible, so you have to listen closely and so on. They have to be ready for anything. Meg and Nea, both being quick on their feet, agreed to be a distraction in case the killer finds them working on a generator. While the killer chases either Meg or Nea, either of the men could continue fixing the generators. Once all generators would be completed, Dwight volunteered himself for the risky task of opening the exit door. That way, everyone can make it together. Simple right? Well, in theory, yes. 

See, Dwight should've known that Nea and Ace wouldn't have listened to him. They did listen to him when they ran off to the other side of the realm, but at some point or another, they must've changed plans. Maybe the killer got them, he did hear a few screams fill the darkness, but none of the screams sounded like when they get hooked. Maybe they got side tracked or even forgot the plan, but Dwight didn't hear a single generator start up other than the one he and Meg worked on. 

Halfway through his second generator he turned to Meg and confessed his theory that the other two aren't proceeding with the plan. Meg scowled at his words and took it upon herself to track them down and see what's taking them so long. She told him she'd be gone for fifteen minutes tops. He tried to stop her, but within seconds she was out of sight. Well, fifteen minutes passed, actually a lot more than just fifteen minutes passed. He was already on his fourth generator. He cursed under his breath. How did this happen? They were all supposed to keep the workload even but here he is, doing most of the generators himself other than the bit of help he got from Meg. He felt like he was in high school all over again, just a loser geek in a group project. The popular, rebel and sporty kid dumping the work on him while they can slack off. All in all, he's still the same loser he's always been. Forgettable Dwight Fairfield. Once a loser, always a loser. 

While he worked on the generator, he heard one power up in the distance. Hope flooded his system. So they didn't quit on him? Yeah, of course they wouldn't. How could he be so pessimistic? They're his friends. They must've been keeping the killers attention to keep him safe. Yeah, that's it. With a final twist and press, his generator was working and now all five were finished. The lovely buzz of the doors getting power filled his ears. He rose up and nearly fell over on the generator. His knees were sore as hell. Sore from, well, being on his knees all trial. He winced in pain and started tracking down a door. Once he found one he grabbed the lever. He pulled it, and tucked it under his arm so he could push it down. The switches were always so damn heavy. He leaned all his weight on it to keep it down. As the door began it's agonizingly slow possess of opening, he scanned the forest with his eyes. 

“Come on,” he whispered, looking for familiar faces. “Come on.”

Soon Ace came running, causing Dwight's face to light up, but it quickly grew dim when he saw the wounds on the man. Blood dripped down him all over. Ace was holding his stomach, most likely putting pressure on the largest of the wounds. Guess he's not as lucky as he claims he is. 

"Where have you been?"

"Trying not to get killed," Ace snapped. There was little bite to his words, it was mostly light hearted banter. "Where have you been?"

"Generators. What killer is it?"

"Shape... Michael?"

"Fuck," Dwight breathed. "What about Nea and Meg?"

"Dunno, split up a while ago," he panted, finally catching his breath. 

"Hey," Dwight said. "You hold the lever, I'll fix you up."

Ace took that offer in a second. The two switched places, Ace being able to hold the lever down much easier than Dwight, and just like earlier, Dwight got on his knees and began patching his teammates wounds. He'd occasionally slip and jab him with his fingers, to which he'd quietly apologize profusely for. Soon, the door screeched open, good timing too. Dwight had just finished bandaging the last cut on Ace. As soon as he withdrew his hands, Ace turned back to Dwight and gave him a thumbs up along with a wink. 

"Thanks man," he smiled before dashing out from the trial. Dwight nodded and ducked behind the door. He liked to hang back and make sure all living survivors make it out. He's been left behind many times, and he knows how it feels to be abandoned like that. He's made a vow to try not to do the same to others. Nobody will be left behind as long as he's still in the trial. His ears picked up on the sound of running feet. He listened closely, and soon the steps became rapid and suddenly Nea sprinted past him without saying a single word. A trail of blood followed her before she disappeared into the fog. He was breathing heavy. Okay, only him and another survivor now. He stood waiting. He waited and waited, but Meg didn't come. He peeked out from his hiding spot and scanned the woods. His brain was coming up with all sorts of terrible thoughts. Was she hurt? Dying? Dead? He shook his head. He didn't hear the entity take her, so she couldn't have died, but then that begs the question, where is she? He was torn out of his thoughts when a sound broke the silence. 

A scream. Megs scream. 

"Meg," he quietly exclaimed. 

She sounded pretty far away, but she's fast and tough. She only screams if... if a killers got her. He let out a wimpier and let his head press against the door. The escape was right there, mere feet in front of him. He wanted to leave, to rest, but he couldn't just leave her. He cursed and pushed the cowardly feelings down and emerged from his hiding place. He began searching. He did his best to be quiet as he ran through the forest, eyes wide open and ears listening for any sounds. He stopped for a brief moment and gripped his knees. He silently wished that the entity would supply them with knee pads or something, but he couldn't dwell on that for long because another scream filled the air, this one much more pained than the last. It was closer too. He slid over a pallet and ducked behind a bush. There, hanging like a pig, Meg was impaled on a meat hook. The hook was straight through her back, and pushed right through her left breast. She was doing a pull up of sorts to ease the weight of her body on the new wound. She let cry’s and pleas leave her lips as she sobbed in pain. A twist of guilt in his gut forced Dwight to run up to her. 

"Dwight!" She blurted out. She was surprised she could even see him through the thick tears in her eyes. "You came back?"

"I've got you, I've got you, it's okay," he whispered, panic clear in his voice. He looked up to her and tried to figure out the best way to get her down. This hook in particular was too tall for him, he'd never be able to lift her by her torso like normal. He supposed he could get something to stand on, but that would take much too long. "It's gonna be okay."

"No. No. No. Dwight, he's coming," she pushed him back with her knee. "Go Dwight."

"No, we're a team, I'm not leaving you," he persisted. He wrapped his arms around her legs, squeezing them tightly together. "This is gonna hurt."

Meg appreciated the warning, because Dwight lifted her from her legs, just barely able to get her off the hook. She couldn't help the scream that tore itself out from her throat. Dwight groaned, feeling his center of balance crumbling under their weight. He stumbled and fell back, back slamming on the dirt and Meg crashing down on top him. Her pelvis smashed hard against his face, making his glasses press hard into his nose and eyes. Another cry left her lips as her wound smacked against the ground. She gripped it tightly and winced at the pressure. She barely lifted herself off him before realizing Dwight had a face full of her crotch. She flung off him and was about to apologize before the Shape emerged from the darkness. 

"Run Dwight!"

She seemed to take her own advice, because Dwight blinked and she was gone. He was barely off the ground before pain sliced through his back. He screamed and sprinted away, hearing the Shape hot on his heels. Dwight could feel the blood dripping down his back. He was definitely cut. Like a chicken with it's head cut off, Dwight ran around, dipping under and jumping over obstacles and windows, and after what felt like ages, he finally lost his attacker. He fell onto his hands and knees, panting hard and feeling his lungs burn like fire. He puked before slumping over a rock. He was panting hard. He was doing his best to stay silent, but that was a much harder task than he thought it would be. If he were to be graded on it, he'd definitely get a D-. D if the teacher took pity on him. He took off his glasses and did his best to clean them before putting them back on. In the distance he saw Meg waving him over. Slowly, he crept his way over to her, and soon the two were reunited. 

"You okay?"

"I... yeah. Yeah. I'm okay," he lied, before gesturing to her injured chest. "Let me help."

She looked him up and down before nodding and unzipping her vest and pulling her shirt down just enough for him to get a better view of the wound and the start of her bra. He paid it no mind and brought all his attention purely to the wound. His brows furrowed at it. Despite never, _interacting_ , with a breast before, he was aware that they're sensitive and fatty, so Meg must be in a lot more pain than she's letting on. He pulled out the last of his medical supplies. He only had one roll of ace bandage and a single lonely band-aid. 

"I'm sorry... This is all I've got," he said with sorrowful eyes.

"It's alright... better than nothing."

In less than a minute he had her wound wrapped tightly. Meg had bit down on her thumb to keep herself silent. Dwight sat down in front of her and huffed out an exhausted breath. He looked at the sad band-aid and held it up. 

"Want it?"

"You're kidding."

Dwight laughed. A breathy, tired laugh. "Ha, well... wouldn't do me much good. Unless it could fix my knees."

"Whats wrong with them?" She asked as she took the band-aid and glanced down. 

"Agh, their killing me," he complained as he rubbed them. After a few silent moments he rose to his feet, swaying slightly from the lack of blood in his system. She didn't seem to notice his pale complexion. He offered her his hand, but she opted to stand on her own. He looked off in the direction from where he came. "The door's over there, but Michael's probably guarding it."

"Any ideas?"

"Yeah actually..." he breathed. "You go over to the exit, I'll go by the house. I saw a pallet over there earlier, I think it's still up. I'll slam it down, and when Michael comes to check, you run out and I'll loop past him and make a break for it."

"Dwight," she started with her tone skeptical. "Shouldn't I do that? I'm a faster runner than you."

"Not with that wound," he pointed. "You'll bleed out before you got to the pallet. The bandages won't stop all the bleeding."

If Meg knew that Dwight's back was now lathered in his own blood, she wouldn't have agreed. She wouldn't have set off to the exit and let him travel back to the house, blood dipping into his pants, but she didn't know. He groaned in pain again as he made his way to the house, praying not to hear her scream again. He finally got to the lone pallet, and with all his might he slammed it down against the wall. The bang was loud, louder than he thought it would be. Good thing too. Michael was guarding the exit, unable to see Meg just barely peeking out from the bushes. The sound, just as Dwight said, drew Michael away from the exit. Meg's heart fluttered with joy. She wondered how Michael failed in killing anyone this round. Normally nobody ever got away from him. He's a beast at killing, fast, quiet and ruthless. She's never once won against him, until now. Michael must be out of it today, or maybe it's not Michael under the mask, but she really didn't care. Too bad Laurie isn't here, she'd have a better read on him. 

As Meg dashed through the exit, Dwight jogged away from the pallet, trying to make each step faster, yet quieter than the last. He stepped on a log in an attempt to leap over it, but it was much more slippery than he thought, and he landed hard on the ground, right knee bashing against a rock. Clenching his jaw hard, he tried to muffle all sounds that threatened to leave his lips. He gripped his knee before hobbling back up and falling back down again. His glasses flew off his face and his chin slammed against in the dirt. He grunted and noticed the ground was alive from the entity. Dwight could make out the red, root like appendages, though they were extremely blurry. The clock was ticking against him. He felt around, trying to find his glasses, feeling as cliche as Velma from Scooby Doo. As he fumbled for his glasses, he found something else that felt like a boot. Dwight squinted at the object in his hand before looking up and seeing a black fuzzy figure with a white blob for a face. 

His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. His whole body froze with fear. Hour long seconds passed without a single movement or sound from either of them. Dwight's elbow brushed against the temple of his glasses. Slowly, he picked them up and put them on. With his vision now clear, he could make out the details of Michael's mask, the darkness in the eye sockets, blood splattered on his coveralls and the long knife held tightly in his hand. Dwight stared up at him, still laying on the ground. He finally decided to break the silence. 

"You win."

As quickly as his voice came, silence swallowed it back up. All was quiet again other than his slamming heartbeat and Michael's breathing under the latex mask. 

"Do something... you win."

This time Michael listened. He bent down, causing Dwight to flinch hard. Michael hooked his hand through Dwight's belt and hoisted him up and over his shoulder. Dwight grunted as he was slung over the big man like a sack of potato's. He felt a tight hand grip his thigh, keeping him in place. Normally he'd squirm and try and free himself, but he knew there was no stopping this. He's too far from the exit, nobody's left to help him and his knees and back are in too much pain to even attempt to out run Michael. He's screwed and he knows it. He simply held his glasses to his face and waited for the inevitable hook in his back. At least he was able to keep his team mates safe, and in the end, isn't that what a leader should do?

Suddenly Dwight was dropped onto the ground. He landed on the cement with a hard thud, renewing the pain in his back. He gave a shriek and a groan before looking up at Michael confused. The killer looked down at him, same as before. Dwight wished he knew what Michael was thinking. He shot a glance behind him and realized that Michael delivered him right to the exit. He looked back to the killer with shock and awe. 

"I... you..." he blabbered. "You brought me... why?"

He knew Michael wouldn't respond, silence is kind of his thing, but he still had to ask. He looked at him, trying to read anything about him, body language or breathing, but the man was barren of any expression. Michael waited, but when Dwight didn't move, he took a single fast, invasive step forward towards Dwight. That single step kicked in his flight reflex, and Dwight scrambled to his feet and sprinted through the exit, finally disappearing into the fog. 

Dwight's odd. Spent his whole life being a reject, an outcast. Tossed aside like trash until someone needs to use him again. Yet, he still risks himself to help others. It was odd. Michael watched him off and on during the trial, observing the way Dwight did everything, and asked for nothing in return. Just simply trying his hardest, for what exactly? Michael didn't know. The others had a habit of taking advantage of him, but he never got back at them. Dwight seemed to fear every trial and killer, but Michael felt as though there was something Dwight feared much more than death. 

Being forgotten.


	2. David x Kate: Songbirds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has taken an attraction to the lovely Kate, and his breath gets caught in his throat when he gets some one on one time with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Under the request of a commenter in the last chapter, I give you this David x Kate fic. I'd recommend to listen to George Michael's Careless Whisper to get the mood of the fic right ;) I hope you enjoy.

Life under the Entities will wasn’t life. It didn’t feel like anyone was truly living. The killers were nothing but murdering husks and misery was the only thing truly alive here. Trial after trial, death after death, each survivor suffered. Death was not an escape here. A certainty? Definitely. An escape? Not in the slightest. Every survivor has been brutally killed in every way conceivable. Some fought for their life, others gave in, but it didn’t matter, because they’ll die eventually, and when they come back, they’ll die again and again. Just two trials ago the Huntress had killed Adam Francis in the most horrific way to men; castration. Of course when Adam awoke back at the fire, his sensitive bits were back between his legs just as they should be, but the trauma remained. Despite all the pain the survivors endured in the trials, the moments they shared at the campfire felt… right. 

Most of the survivors were strangers from the start. Only Steve and Nancy knew each other before getting taken by the Entity. The two were apparently ex-lovers. David shuttered at the thought of cutting a relationship off, only to appear in a never ending tourture loop, stuck with an ex for all eternity. Good on them for keeping things mature and civil. Other than them, the rest of the survivors were strangers, all from different places and all with different lives. In a twisted way, the Entity took them from their homes and forced them to become a dysfunctional family in it’s own fucked up world. David glanced around at all the familiar faces around the campfire. As much as he kicked himself for it, he found comfort in their presence. Truth be told, he felt as though he was the survivor who didn’t mind their predicament the most. Yes, he hated the Entity and the games it played with them, but the rush he felt from it all made him feel free. He’s always loved a fight, a scene, some drama. Even if it wasn’t there, he’d make it be there to give his system a jump start. Cops and friends would always force him to end his fights, but here? The fighting will never end. He could fight and fight, and if he died, so what? He’ll just come back, just like everyone else here. Nobody dies here, at least not forever. Death wasn’t something to fear anymore. David’s interest peaked when he heard Feng bring something up that caught his attention. 

“If the killers dated each other… who’d be with who?”

Several laughed at her question. They all often made fun of the killers in a petty attempt to get back at them, even if it was behind their back. They’d just kick back and verbally roast the killers, often making fun of the way they look or whatever comes to mind. 

“Legion and Ghostface,” Nea snickered. “Both pervs.”

“Oh you bet your ass, they’d fuck the shit out of each other,” Jake laughed, face lighting up like stars in the moonlight. 

“Gross,” Claudette waved him off. 

“Serious, Ghost has mad blue balls and you can’t tell me otherwise.”

David nearly cry laughed at Jakes comment. He slumped into the dirt, letting his head rest on Janes leg, before she pushed his head off, making it thump on the log she sat on. He paid it no mind and wiped a joyful tear from his eye. “Who’d be the top?”

Jake placed a hand on his chin and thought for a moment. His eyes squinted as he pondered Davids question. “Legion.”

“Wait, what?” Feng blurted. “You think Legion would be a top? There’s more than one-”

“Well Ghostface ain’t a top,” Jake snorted as he interrupted her. Several of the girls covered their mouths in attempt to contain their laughter. Jake sat up, contorted his face, clearly trying to make it look like Ghostface’s mask. 

“Bleehg, look at me, I’m Ghostface,” he started, drawing his voice nazzley, and bending his arms like a T-Rex. “I’m so fucking horny all the time, let me hook ya, wanna take a picture of ya, oh JEEZ that’s a good shot, gonna jerk to that later-”

“Enough Jake,” Claudette laugh yelled as she pushed his arm. “That’s gross.”

“Wait wait, wait a minute,” David started, raising a finger to the air. “Here me out.”

Everyone paused and turned their attention to David. He leaned forward, smirk present on his lips. He waited a few moments to build tension before speaking up. “Pig and Huntress, or should I call her Junk-tress after what she did to Adam.”

A few laughed, Adam did not. 

“Not funny.”

“You either gotta laugh about it or cry about it, whatcha gonna do?”

Adam was about to retort, but Kate spoke up. 

“Relax Adam, he’s only poking fun.”

David felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. Damn was Kate pretty. Her long hair seemed to never knot and her face always looked so smooth and soft. He tore his eyes from her and cleared his throat. Feng nodded her head to David, catching his attention. 

“Why Huntress and Pig?”

“Common, the big hunter and her prey? That’s some kinky shit right there.”

Most of the survivors laughed at his joke, and it started a long conversation about the sexual side of the hypothetical relationships of the killers. Time never seemed to pass at the campfire, so nobody knew how long they laughed for, but soon David felt the urge to pee. He rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off his backside, making the ornery decision to dust the dirt onto Jane’s lap. Payback for the little head thing earlier. She pushed his butt away from her, scowling at him without saying a word. 

“I gotta take a leak,” he announced, halfway giggling out his words because of the dirt thing. 

“TMI dude,” Jake chuckled as he took a sip of some sort of stale drink. 

“Just letting you know, just in case you wanted to help a brother out,” he joked. Claudette groaned at the boyish banter as David began walking away from camp. The smell of the fires smoke began to fade and when he deemed himself far enough, he unzipped his pants and began to relieve himself. He breathed in the cold night air as he emptied his blatter. Once finished, he jiggled himself dry before tucking his tender bit behind his jeans. He walked a ways from his puddle and found himself a nice tree to lean on. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back, taking in the night sky. The sky never looks right here. It always looks fake, more dusty than cloudy. The stars looked deliberately placed, rather than naturally occurring, and not a single constellation was ever in the sky. Yet somehow, he felt at home. He knew he’s never going to be able to return to his actual home, never being able to see his old friends and family, but it was okay. Moving on was easy. Here was his fucked up little home now. He stood there silently, just staring up at the sky. No thoughts, no feelings, just being there, in the moment. 

The sound of a branch snapping broke him out of his haze. He flung his head in the direction of the sound. His eyes scanned for any movement. He stepped away from the tree and rose his arms and curled his hands into tight fists. He’s never seen a killer at camp, but that doesn’t mean that it’s impossible for them to come. The Entity has proved itself to have a twisted sense of humor. He was ready to fight or run. His breathing was steady, but got caught in his throat when a figure emerged from the darkness, and stood up onto an earthy drop off. 

“Fuck,” he breathed a sign of relief and let his arms drop to his sides. The feminine figure stood on the drop off, giggling as she looked down at him. She sat down, placing her hands on the ground beside her hips, one knee drew up to her chin. 

“Don’t do that,” David hissed. He received another giggle from the girl as she flipped her hair behind her back. 

“Did I scare ya?”

“Pfft. No. I was just ready for anything.”

“If you thought I was one of the killers, I’m offended,” Kate laughed. She looked down at the forest floor, it was too high up and too dark for her to jump down safely. She wiggled, trying to figure out the best way to get down. David’s stomach fluttered and decided it was go time, now or never. His charm game was now activated. He walked up to her and stopped just a foot in front of her legs. He outstretched his arms and smiled up at her. 

“Comere, I gotcha.”

She took him up on that offer and wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her into his arms and held her close. He held her for a moment longer than necessary, just staring into her gorgeous blue eyes that shimmered like aquamarine gemstones. He smiled as he slowly slid her down his body, letting her feet finally touch the ground. Her hands were on his chest, and she took the opportunity to fix the collar of his jacket, holding him a little closer than necessary. Her cheeks grew a little pink as she stared transfixed on his face. 

“My,” she started, but didn’t complete. 

“You know, I swear I can hear Careless Whisper playing.”

She let out a hardy laugh and patted his chest, letting her hand linger. She grinned widely. “It’s been far too long since I’ve heard that song.” She clearly was mentally reminiscing on old times. 

“You know, I used to listen to that song every single day. Still know all the lyrics.”

He hardly realized his arms were still around her until she pulled his hands down to rest on her hips. She caressed his cheek with her soft fingertips before wrapping her arms around him again. 

“Sing it for me?”

“Ah, well,” he blurted. “I’m not much of a singer.”

“That’s okay,” she practically humed, beginning to sway. His heart beat hard in his chest. If she keeps talking like that he’ll sing her an entire George Michael album. He took in a breath and began singing softly. 

“I feel so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.”

She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck as they swayed. It’s been a long time since she’s been sung to. Usually she does the singing for everyone else, not that she minds. She loves singing, especially when her audience grows happy from her songs. She loved the looks of joy and relaxation in their faces as she sung to them. She loved making memories with people. Though she couldn’t recall the last time someone sung to her. Even though David’s notes were flat, and at times he was a little tone deaf, she found herself at peace in his arms. She hummed along with him until the chorus came along. 

“I’m never gonna dance again,~” David sung.

“Guilty feet I’ve got no rhythm,” she sang along with him, now remembering the words. The difference between their singing was large, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. He pulled her in for a swaying hug as the sang together, finishing off the chorus. Once the chorus was over, their swaying stopped. He looked down at her as she slowly looked up at him, smile present on her kissable lips, pupils wide with half lidded eyes. 

“That was nice,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, it was.” He agreed. He bit his lips, wanting to take action, but he didn’t want to scare her off. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding before speaking. “Kate, I really want to kiss you right now.”

She looked at him, eyes opening a little wider, smile falling for only a moment as she processed his words, but once she understood what he said she smiled once again. 

“Then why don’t you?”

That’s all it took for their lips to finally meet. His fantasy coming true. God, he felt like he was in some goddamn movie but the writers couldn’t settle on the damn genre. He gets murdered every other day, but right now he feels like he’s in a cheesy romance movie. Kate cupped both sides of his face and brought some extra heat into the kiss. He couldn’t help his roaming hands. He wanted to touch her, feel her, be someone who excites her, he wants her to want him. He licked her lower lip and she took the hint. Once tongue was introduced into the kiss, it was a whole nother ball game. He gently pushed her against the tree as their kiss deepened dramatically. He slid his knee between her legs to get closer and snaked his hand up the back of her shirt, feeling the elastic of her bra. 

“Wait,” she broke the kiss off. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because the others could find us.”

“What’s that got to do with anything,” he half joked. She giggled and tapped her finger against his nose. 

“We will soon.”

“When?”

She walked out from his arms and faced the way back to the campfire. She pulled all her hair to one shoulder, reviling her neck and looked back to him with a mischievous smile. “I dunno,” she coyly said. “When you catch me at a good time.”

“Any idea of when that will be?” He called out to her as she walked away, hips swaying. She didn’t look back at him this time. She kept walking as she said “I’ll surprise you.”

He watched as she left his sight. He had a goofy grin on his face and leaned back against the tree, before sitting on it’s exposed roots. He tipped his head back on the bark, finding this to be his new favorite tree. He will forever mentally refer to it as “The Tree Kate and I Made Out On”. That beautiful, sexy songbird is gonna be the true death of him, and if she keeps doing what she’s doing he’s going to enjoy every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, that's the end of that, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm not very good at writing romance, but I think I did okay this time around. If you've got a pairing in mind for me to write about, or a scene or anything Dead by Daylight really, comment and let me know. If it peeks my interest I just may write about it. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this.


	3. Dwight and Meg: Lover boy (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg has a secret, and Dwight has one too, but it wasn't what Meg expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter is a part 2 to the first chapter "Dwight the Leading Loser." You don't have to read the first part to understand this one, but you may find more enjoyment from it if you do. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Dwight has a secret. Actually, he has a lot of secrets, some of which not worth keeping. Some of his secrets were laughable, like when he peed his pants in 3rd grade because he was too shy to ask his teacher to go to the bathroom a second time, after she already told him no the first. In his defense, she was a big scary lady. She reminded him of the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Another pathetic secret he kept was when he was in 6th grade and “got in a fight”. He had to be bandaged and looked scuffed up. What actually happened was that he walked in on his dad watching a spy movie. The leading spy had gotten in a rough fight, and he looked rugged and cool. The spy showed up at his agency and lady's flocked around him. At the time Dwight thought it was because he looked cool, but now he knows it was because they were intensely attracted to the spy. Anyways, the thought looking tough would make him more popular, so he pinched, punched and scratched himself until he looked roughed up enough, then went to school with the claim he got in a fight with someone out of school. Not many people believed him. 

He also cheated a lot in school. Never in a relationship, but in classwork. He cheated all through middle and high school, but especially so in high school. Mainly on tests if he could get away with it. A simple glance to his side, looking over his classmates paper. Writing down the test answers on his palm the class before. Skipping school on a big test day, just so he could ask someone the next day about it to have a heads up. His freshman year he cheated so much that it was more rare for him to do any assignment honestly. His teacher was oblivious of his actions, and genuinely thought he was a smart kid, because he got A’s and B’s on all of his assignments with the help of cheating. Hell, sometimes he purposely got questions wrong when he felt like he was doing to good, so the teacher wouldn’t realize his treachery. Most of his secrets were like that, simple, and didn’t carry much weight, or if they did at one point, they don’t anymore, but one secret. One simple, dangerous secret was different. 

It was his deepest secret, one he only told one other living person ever. A girl who he was really close with. She was his only friend, the only person who came to comfort him after getting wedgies or swirlies. She was the only person he had to talk to, the only person who cured his loneliness. He decided they were close enough for him to share his biggest secret and she laughed. She laughed and laughed, and when she was done, she finally noticed the mortified expression that contorted his face. She realized he wasn’t joking, then shouted at him and mocked him, telling him how much of a freak he was, and insisted he never talk to her again, with the consequence of letting his secret ‘slip’ into public knowledge. Their friendship ended really quick that day. When Dwight returned home he sobbed on the shower floor, letting the hot water pour down on top his thin frame. That’s when he vowed. Vowed to never tell another living soul his secret ever again. He promised himself he’d keep it locked up tight, then one day when he’s old and grey, he could finally die, and take it down to the grave with him. Now that he’s the Entities toy however, dying isn’t his salvation from that cursed secret. He’d have to keep it for much, much longer than he wished. 

He didn’t really mind though, not like he was eager to tell anyone anyways. He was so sick and tired of being laughed at. Being stuck in a cycle of constant death, being stuck with the same people for all eternity, never being able to run from it all? Yeah, no thanks. If he let his secret slip, he’d be in pain until the world stops turning. Dwight let a heavy sigh leave his lips. He sat at the campfire with all the other survivors. He had his arms wrapped around his knees, which were tucked into his chest. Everyone chattered and conversed with each other, but Dwight just rested his chin on his arms. At first he was listening to he conversations at the campfire, but soon he zoned them all out. He thought about his life before the Entity took him. He wasn’t sure which life was better honestly. Many things stayed the same. He was still running, both from himself and others. He used to run from bullies, now he runs from serial killers. He used to be pushed into lockers, now he hides in them. If his life was a movie it would be the first half of the Chicken Little movie. 

“You good?” A woman's voice startled him out of his trance. He snapped his eyes up to Meg, who stood over him, concerned look in her eyes. He must’ve had an upset expression or something. She crouched beside him and gave a tiny smile. He tried to find the words to respond. 

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?” She inquired as she seated herself beside him. He looked around, nobody else payed them any mind. He gestured up to the sky, before speaking. 

“Life before… this.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Why?”

“You looked upset,” she told him, lightly nudging his shoulder in an attempt to make him smile. It succeeded. He felt a little honored that she came to check up on him. He didn’t think anyone would. He let out a single breath laugh at how pathetic and desperate he was for a friend. 

“Nah, just thinking,” he assured her. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” There was a break before she continued speaking. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“I… Right now?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “What are you worried about?”

“I’m… not” he started. “Sure, let’s go.”

Dwight and Meg got up and snuck off into the woods with nearly nobody else noticing. Only Jake noticed, but he didn’t call any attention to it. He simply watched them leave before turning his attention back to David King and David Tapp argue about who’s the better David. So far David’s winning. Meg and Dwight walked far, further than Dwight imagined. They talked about the past, future, other survivors, music and so on. Each conversation somehow always twisted back to the Entity, but that’s to be expected. Dwight still appreciated her company. Time passed, and they were much farther than Dwight’s ever traveled. He raised a brow and adjusted his thick glasses before stopping her. 

“Where are we going?”

“Hmm?” She turned back to face him. “Oh, right! Nowhere.”

“We’ve gone pretty far, shouldn’t we head back? If we go too far the Entity might-”

“Dwight,” she interrupted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

His face fell blank and a spark of anxiety zapped through him. His mind began racing as the tried to put the puzzle pieces together that Meg laid out. He’s alone, with a pretty girl, in the woods, at night and so very much alone with her. The odds were growing. He swallowed thickly and began fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. His heart was beginning to beat rather fast. He licked his lower lip, finally deciding to speak up. 

“Talk about what?”

“About the time where you came back for me, with the Shape?”

“Oh that,” he sighed, slightly relieved. “What about it?”

“Why’d you come back?”

He could be honest, could tell her he didn’t want her to feel the ping of sadness he felt when he was left alone to die. He could tell her that he didn’t feel right abandoning her after all she did, or the fact he didn’t want her to lose her items she earned through the trial. All of those were true, but they all felt too sappy or just lame, so he went with another honest answer. 

“We’re a team, that’s what teammates do.”

She thought for a moment, analyzing his words. It was as if she was having trouble fully understanding. She took a step closer to him, locking their eyes together. He took a small step back. 

“Right?” He added.

“Well, yeah,” she acknowledged with a shrug and a glance to the ground. “But you could’ve left.”

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I really would’ve. I mean, I’d want to, but in the moment, with all the fear… I don’t think I’d be able to.”

“That’s fine,” he muttered, truly meaning it. “I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“You’re a really good guy Dwight,” she smiled. A small look of astonishment flashed on his face by her words. The odds were growing. “You’re actually a lot more brave then you let on too.”

“Not really,” he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t realize he was slowly backing away from her until his heels met with a large rock. He took it as blessing and sat down on the hard surface. Meg had an odd expression, one he’s never seen on her face before. Her eyes looked endearing, affectionate. His heart slammed. Oh no. He hoped he was misreading the situation, like he so often did. He prayed her expression was just happy, not the intimate look he’s reading from her. 

“Yes you are Dwight,” she insisted, stepping closer. “You try so hard, all the time. I’ve never met anyone who tries as hard as you. You check up on everyone, give everyone your supplies, always come back for us when no one else will. Hell, we even make fun of you sometimes and you don’t even get mad at us.”

By now she was standing much closer, toes almost touching his. He leaned a little further back on his rock. 

“Eh,” he shrugged. “I’m actually pretty petty.”

“You’re kinda cute too,” she mumbled, slightly swaying her shoulders. He was stupefied. That phrase sucked all the words right out of his mouth. He tried to think of anything, any way to get out of this but nothing came to mind. The only path is forward. He gulped down when she added “In your own… dorky kind of way.”

“Meg,” he started. “What are you...?” 

“Dwight,” she nearly whined. “I’m trying to tell you that I… I like you, a lot. You’re funny and dorky, and...”

It seemed like both of them ran out of things to day. They just looked at each other in desperate silence. He was frozen, shocked, and all other synonyms to add. His body felt like the rock he sat on, heavy and ridged, unmovable. His body felt ungodly heavy, but his head felt light. His heart was beating painfully in his chest and he felt like he may pass out. He opened his mouth but no words came. Megs expression shifted to one of regret as she cast her eyes down. 

“Meg I-” he started, but suddenly he couldn’t speak English anymore. His dialect became blabber. She looked back at him, her face slowly started to brighten, the initial pain receding. She just watched as Dwight became undone at his own hand. “God, I don’t know what to say.”

“Well,” she shrugged. “If you like me back, that’s great and we can move on from there, if you don’t, oh well.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” he blurted. He was mentally kicking himself. What was he doing? He didn’t like her romantically, she’s just a friend, but he wanted to spare her feelings. God, he hated his life more than normal right now. He’s not used to being the one to reject people. He raised a hand in the air, as if it will help him search for words. He dropped it back down and sighed. “I just don’t like you… like that.”

“You hardly made sense,” Meg laughed, teasing him. Dwight groaned at himself. 

“I know!” He covered his face with his hands. He let out another groan before continuing to verbally dig his own grave. “See… I’m just… I’m just not the dating type of guy.”

“So, you have commitment issues?” She genuinely asked.

“No, not that exactly,” he crossed his arms, tucking his hands in his armpits. He could fell his cheeks getting hot. 

“Then what?”

“I-I-I,” he stuttered, now growing more flustered. “L-look at me,” he laughed. “You brought my stutt-tter back.”

“You had a stutter?”

“G-growing up, I mostly get it when I’m nervous,” he laughed again. It was meant to ease the tension in the air, but it just tightened it. “Meg, listen. I like you, you’re a really nice, very beautiful girl. You’ve got a great personality and you’d make any guy lucky to have you, but I’m not… that guy.”

“Okay,” she nodded, taking his words seriously. She wasn’t a stranger to rejection, and she didn’t expect him to return her feelings. She’s just always been the type to shoot her shot at least once. The problem wasn’t her having trouble taking the rejection, it was him pressuring himself to explain himself to her. Meg didn’t mind the simple ‘no’, but Dwight’s frazzled mind ushered him on. 

“I just… don’t like you like that... You’re great! I’m not, not really anyways, I-I mean I appreciate it, that you like me, but-”

“Dwight,” she interrupted, stopping him from digging himself further into his self made grave. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No!” He exclaimed with a little too much urgency. He internally cussed himself out. Meg watched him with wide eyes. He was so close to spilling his secret to her, but he cant. If he does, his life is over. He has to keep it down. “I-I...I-”

“You know you can talk to me Dwight,” she said in a gentle tone, now sitting beside him on the same rock. Her tone eased the anxiety bleeding through his system. He let out a heavy sigh, brows knotting together tightly. He’s failed himself. He could feel his secret leaving his lips, and before he realized, he muttered it out. Meg almost missed what he said, being that it was so quiet. She waited for a moment, trying to dissect what he said, but it was just too quiet for her to make out. 

“What did you say?”

“Meg,” he breathed heavy. His arms were tightly crossed and his leg was bouncing up and down. He turned his face away from her. Meg leaned forward, trying to see his expression, now concerned as to what he plans on telling her. He finally let it out. “I’m gay.”

She couldn’t help the small chuckle that left her lips. She raised a fist to her mouth and let out a few more giggles. His head snapped at her, face completely and utterly betrayed. 

“That’s it?” She asked.

“That's...” he repeated, flabbergasted. “It? What? You don’t care!? It was THAT easy!?” 

She laughed aloud again, as his shocked expression was just to priceless. She grinned at him and shook her head. 

“Why would I care?”

“Well, the last girl I told laughed in my face and told me not to talk to her anymore,” he said bluntly. Meg stopped laughing. She felt immediate regret for giggling. She never would’ve guessed that a simple giggle would stur up such bad memories. 

“She did what?”

“Yeah… she was my best friend too,” he mumbled, looking down. 

“Oh fuck no,” she scowled. “Please be joking, she did not do that to you.”

“She did. She threatened she’d out me if I kept talking to her...”

“What a fucking bitch,” Meg hissed. Dwight didn’t think his eyes could get wider, but they did. Right now Meg looked like a Goddess to him. He could hardly believe his ears. She’s mad, mad that someone hurt him. He couldn’t help but smile, an unusual wave of happiness hitting him. 

“Who the fuck does she think she is?” Meg continued ranting. 

“It really doesn’t mater anymore Meg,” he stared, but she cut him off. 

“No Dwight. It matters. She better be damn thankful you were taken by the Entity and not her, because I’d give her a lot more to fear than just some stupid serial killers.”

Her cheeks were flushed red, hot with anger. He grabbed her shoulder with a gentle hand and smiled. 

“It’s… it’s okay Meg, it’s in the past.”

She took in a breath, trying to calm down. A few silent moments passed of her easing the hatred for a girl she’s never met. Once Dwight felt like she calmed down enough, he removed his hand from her and placed both his on either side of his hips. She mimicked his actions and eyed him. 

“So, how many people know?”

“My secret?”

“About you being ga-”

“Yeah-” he cut her off. He didn’t want the word to be out in the air again, as if it was said a third time something bad would happen. Like when you say Bloody Mary or Beetlejuice three times in a row. Come to think of it, there’s an odd amount of stories about summoning something by saying its name three times. He didn’t know exactly what he feared by hearing the word ‘gay’ a third time in one night, but the Entity could find something to summon. Maybe a gay serial killer to both frighten him as well as sexually confuse the poor nerd. “My secret.”

“Being that it’s a secret, you probably haven’t told many people.”

He nodded before answering. “Only you and that girl.”

“Not even your family?”

“Hell no,” Dwight shook his head. “Why give my dad another reason to be disappointed in me?”

“What about your mom?” Meg asked, trying not to show how sorry she felt for Dwight. Growing up must’ve been really hard for him. 

“She would’ve told him.”

“So,” she began, trying to plan out her next words carefully. He looked at her, waiting for her to resume talking. “I’m the only one here who knows?”

“Unless you count me, yes.”

It was hard for her to take it all in. First, she gets a crush on Dwight, second, she learns that he’s gay, and third, she learns she’s the only person here who knows that fact about him. She never pictured Dwight would be gay but now that she knows, it makes too much sense. He was so kind and thoughtful to the girls, very gentlemanly and polite. He never made any cat calls, cheeky one liners or gave them goo-goo eyes. He treated the girls very maturely and friendly, not sexually, a trait she’s only genuinely seen in gay men. She’s appalled in herself for not realizing this sooner. She rubbed a gentle hand on his back. 

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna tell anyone… are you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “That’s for you to do when you want to.”

A relieved expression flooded his face as he sighed. He grinned at her with an affectionate look in his eyes, enlarged by his bottle thick glasses. “Meg, I just want to thank you for being so nice to me. I was so scared to tell anyone. I thought if I told someone… they’d tell everyone and they’d all hate me.”

“Dwight,” she breathed. “We all love you.”

His smile fell as he looked at her. His face perplexed and downright dumbfounded. It took her a moment, but then the realization struck her. Did Dwight think that nobody here loved him? Did he really think nobody cared about him? Her brows knotted together and she couldn’t hide the look of concern on her face. 

“You… You know that right?”

When he turned his face away from her, it told her everything she needed to know. A stab of sadness pierced her heart. How could she have let this happen? How could this happen at all? Did Dwight feel like anyone loved him? The way he talked about his family suggests not. She pawed at his shoulder, trying to turn him to face her, but he kept his face away from hers. 

“Oh Dwight...”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“No! Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry we haven’t...”

“It’s okay,” he muttered, never removing his gaze from the ground. She stood up, letting her feet touch the ground. Stepping in front of him, she eyed his face, but his glasses hid his expression, but judging from everything, he’s hurting. She leaned in and hugged him. At first he didn’t hug her back, too shocked at the affection to do anything. He couldn’t recall the last time he was hugged. The longer their embraced lasted, the more he felt like he needed to cry. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter. It’s been far too long since he’s felt the warmth of someones arms around him. They hugged for much longer than either thought they would, and Dwight may or may not have shed a few silent tears. 

“Ah,” Meg sighed, finally pulling back. She looked at the sky before wiping a salty tear from her eye. Dwight rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, nearly making them fall off his face. He readjusted them and gave a sniffle, but flashed her a smile. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I needed that.”

“Me too,” she smiled. She walked to another rock and sat criss cross on top it. She looked at Dwight as she scratched a scab from the last trial. “Hey Dwight?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I ask you a question about you secret?”

“Um,” he thought. “S-sure?”

“What’s your type?”

“My type?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod. “Your type of guy?” 

“Oh right,” he flushed. “You… you really want to know?”

Meg happily nodded, excited to get to know a side of Dwight that only she’ll know. He gave a soft smile as he looked down at the ground. He thought about it. He was still anxious to share this side of him to her, but being that she’s taking it light-years better than he imagined, he figured, ‘what could go wrong?’ He bit his lower lip before starting. 

“I like guys who know who they are. I’ve always been trying to figure myself out, so I guess guys who’ve already figured themselves out would,” he stopped and shrugged, as if he didn’t know what else to add. Though Meg understood. “I’ve always liked confident guys.”

“Confidence is really sexy,” Meg agreed. Dwight nodded, visibly loosening up. “You know, I’ve always liked guys who were nerdy.”

“I guess we like the opposite of what we are,” he laughed. 

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you have a crush,” she asked. His face got red fast, and his hand found its way to the back of his neck and rubbed it hard. 

“N-no.”

“Wait a sec,” she squinted, leaning forward. “You’re lying.”

“What? No!” He yelped, rising to his feet. “I-I- I’m not I-” 

Meg was grinning like mad. Her face screamed victory, and if the two were playing a game of chess, she would’ve check mated him. He blabbered out nonsense before accepting the fact that Meg was just too smart to lie to. He gave a heavy sigh and sat back on the rock again, rubbing the glasses nearly off his face. Fixing them back into place, he looked at the grinning girl. 

“Jeez you’re tough,” he groaned. “Yes. I do.”

“Who!?” She excitedly exclaimed, mind already theorizing. 

“If I tell you,” he began. 

“I won’t tell him! I promise!”

Dwight sighed and scratched his cheek. He didn’t expect to feel so excited by finally spilling the beans, but he was. He smiled and thought of the face he wanted to kiss so badly. He met eyes with the eager Meg. 

“It’s... ” he paused, practically pulling Meg off the edge of her seat. “It’s Jake.”

He watched her expression nervously, ready to see any negativity, but when she jumped up, thrilled at his words, he couldn’t help but get hyped up too. She was grinning ear to ear, eyes joyful, and truth be told, this was probably the happiest he’s ever seen her. She tugged at her braids and for once Dwight didn’t feel like he was about to get mocked. 

“I can’t believe this,” she excitedly said. “Jake’s hot so I can’t blame you.”

“Ah! I know right!?” Dwight gushed. Meg laughed aloud in agreement, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. It felt so good to finally get that out. All those days of secretly checking Jake out, he could now finally talk to someone about how handsome he is. He couldn’t count the times he’s watched as Jake works on a generator, eyes focused and hair hanging, slightly curling towards his face, hands working hard. Or how he naps at the campfire, legs and arms crossed, as he leans against a log, and how bad Dwight wants to curl up next to him. He could finally rant about how dreamy he is and how much he wants to kiss him and-

“God he’s so hot,” he involuntarily said aloud. Meg chuckled, happy to see the look of excitement and joy on his face. “God, you don’t know how hard it is to not talk about him.”

“Oh I bet. How long have you liked him?”

“Man,” he thought for a moment. “Probably for half the time he’s been here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “God, Meg, I like him so much.”

“I know you probably won’t listen,” she said, drawing in a quizzical look from him. “But maybe you could tell him someday? I feel like he’d give you a chance.”

“No way,” Dwight shook his head. “Jake’s straight and I’m not about to have him hate me forever.”

“Why do you think he’ll hate you just for having a crush on him? It’s flattering, and you don’t even know if he’s straight or not.”

“I’m willing to bet he is,” Dwight flatly said. 

Meg crossed her arms and raised a brow. They stood like cowboys about to face off in the wild west, Deathslinger would be proud. The look in her eyes was that of challenge. 

“Alright,” she pondered. “Tell you what...”

“What?”

“How about we bet on it?”

“Bet on Jake's sexuality?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod. “If he’s straight, you win, if he’s not, I win.”

“Meg,” Dwight was about to whine, but a thin build of curiosity and excitement was building in his chest. He’s been dying to know what Jake's sexuality is. This may just be exactly what will make him find out. He squinted at her, giving her a small smirk. “Alright.”

“Now for a price,” she thought. “I’ll bet my next two tool boxes on it. What will you wager?”

“My next two med kits.”

Risky move to bet med kits, but the prize was high. If one of them wins, they get two extra items to use during trials. Although, they both know that if Dwight won he’d still share. Tools were a much safer wager, being that you could still complete a trial without them, just slower and maybe a bit more painful. If you need to loosen or tighten a screw without tools, you have to use your hands or find something. Medical kits though, they were much more important. The fact he bet them shows Meg he’s confident in his wager. She strutted up, confident in hers too. She put out a hand. 

“Then it’s settled, my tool boxes for your med kits. If he’s straight you win, if he’s not I win,” she grinned, ready for her hand to be shook. He gripped it, but before he shook, he put a finger up. 

“One catch.”

“I’m listening.”

“I have to be in earshot. I want to hear him say it.”

“Deal,” she shook his hand. With that, their deal was set. The need to figure out Jake's sexuality was high. Dwight patted her shoulder and insisted they should head back to camp now and Meg happily nodded. She wrapped a friendly arm around his torso as they walked back. Dwight was still shocked about this whole experience. He told his biggest secret, his deepest darkest secret, and he wasn’t treated any less for it. In fact, Meg is supportive, and willing to help him find out Jake’s, his crushes, sexuality. Man, if Dwight was straight he totally would’ve gone for her. He felt bad for not being straight for her, because she’s such a genuine person, but he knew she wouldn’t want him to feel bad about something he can’t change, despite trying many times. For once he felt like walked with the weight of the world off his shoulders. Today turned out to be a really good day and even though the Entity will surly make up for it later, he couldn’t help but hold his chin up. As the light of the campfire came into view, he gave a quiet sigh. 

Everything in his world just felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the chapter, it was really fun to write, but also kinda difficult because it was really dialogue heavy, and I find it hard to make dialogue flow clearly, so please let me know how I did. There will be a third part to this, so if you were hoping for more Jake in this, just wait and you'll get some! Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!


	4. Dwight x Jake: Lover Boy (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight has a crush on Jake, but he has no idea if the survivor shares his feelings. All he dreams of is kissing his lips, but it's only a fantasy.
> 
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a part 3 to chapter 1 and 3, you don't have to read the others to understand this one, but you may get more enjoyment if you read the others. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it!

It all started on a normal day at the campfire. Everyone was gathered around, accept for Bill, Quentin, Ash and Zarina, who were currently in a trial, fighting for their lives. Laurie, Claudette, Steve and Jeff had just come back from their own trial. Claudette and Steve pretty much immediately passed out from exhaustion, and Jeff was on his way to falling asleep. Laurie, as always, was alert, despite her fatigue. It was a few days after Dwight came out to Meg and neither survivor forgot about their gamble. Both were eager to figure out what Jake's sexuality was. Dwight had bet two med kits on him being straight and Meg bet two tool boxes on him being anything but straight. Both were sure of their choices. The two have been mulling over how to ask him without causing suspicion. 

Jake laid on the ground, head resting on his favorite log. He was in his signature spot. Each survivor sat in their own place. It was never planned, but as days went on, an unspoken seating arrangement came into play. None of the survivors called it to attention nor violated it. It just simply came to be. Jake's hands were clasped together, cupping his head to act like a pillow against the stiff log. His legs were crossed comfortably with his feet warm next to the fire. His eyes were resting shut, and in moments like these it was hard to tell if he was awake or not. His resting face also tended to look annoyed, along with his sleeping expression, so when he laid down and shut his eyes it posed many questions for his secret admirer Dwight. Jake was quiet in general, often opting to listen rather than blabber on, unless a joke or taunt could be made. Though Dwight didn't like the uncertainty of not knowing if Jake was awake or not, he did like the opportunity to gaze upon his handsome face. He'd give anything just to kiss him. 

"Jake?" Meg called out. 

"Hmm?" He hummed out, just barely loud enough to be heard over the other conversations. His eyes remained closed, and his expression didn't change in the slightest. 

"You falling asleep?"

"No," he assured, still not changing his face. He went through a trial himself today, a long one. He just barely managed to escape against Oni, who had apparently been chasing him non stop through the trial. If he was truly not falling asleep after running a marathon, he was really one of the best survivors. Meg was determined to figure out his sexuality for Dwight, but how? Asking him directly would be a bit rude and out of character for her, and she know's Dwight would never ask on his own. Maybe if she turned the conversation around to relationships? That could ease him into letting her know if he's straight or not. It could work. She looked over to Dwight, who was practically drooling over Jake. She stared at him hard until her gaze pierced his nerves and he looked at her with a confused expression. She gave him a smirk along with a wink, letting him know she was planning something. 

"Dwight, before the Entity, did you have a relationship?"

"Uh," he began, a little unsure of where she planned to take this. "No. I wasn't much of a dater."

"Really?" She genuinely asked. "Never?"

He shook his head. She was shocked he's never been in a relationship at all. She know's he's gay, but she figured he'd at least have dated one guy before. Even if it was online or something. 

"I'm surprised." 

"It's not that surprising. I wasn't exactly a heartthrob growing up."

"You don't have to be to date."

"Yeah," he nodded before shrugging. "I guess I had other things to focus on than date. Never found the right person either, but not like it matters much anymore."

Meg looked at him with particular eyes. It was as if she was silently telling him to do something, or ask her something, but he didn't know what she wanted. He tried to read her eyes like a book, but before he could decipher what she was trying to telepathically tell him, David King spoke up. 

"Yo, you've never dated at all? Like, not once?"

"No," Dwight answered again, getting slightly annoyed and flustered. Meg rolled her eyes at David, but a thought struck her. David and Jake do tend to butt heads as well as laugh with each other. Their brotherly bond may just be what she needs. She wrapped an arm around her torso, and rubbed her chin with the other hand. She was trying to figure out how to bait David into helping her. 

"Fuck man, have you even had sex?" David blurted, causing Dwight's face to get hot at the question. He couldn't even think of what to say. He didn't want David to know he was a virgin in every sense of the word. Even his lips were virgin, never have been kissed before. His body was pure, sexually clean. If David knew he was a virgin, he'd never hear the end of it. He'd, without a doubt, start fitting virgin into his sentences. Like 'how's it goin' virg?' Or 'shut up virgin'. Dwight looked at Meg for help and the glare she shot David was enough to know she had his back. Just as Meg turned to do whatever she planned on doing to David, Dwight shot a quick glance to Jake and nearly fainted. Dwight and Jake's eyes locked together. When did Jake start looking at him? His eyes were intoxicating, and it took great effort to pull his eyes from his crushes. 

"David!" Meg shouted. "What the hell? You don't just ask that!"

"It's an honest question!" He retorted. "Besides, this is what guys talk about all the time."

"Well take that guy crap outta here," Meg hissed. "I'd be surprised if _you've_ had sex."

"What!? Why?"

"No girl in her right mind would touch you," Meg huffed. She didn't mean it, David was very charming and handsome, but he could use a bruise or two to that ego of his. 

"Hmph," he crossed his arms. "Back where I'm from, girls couldn't get their hands off me."

"Sure David," Jake finally piped up. He scratched the side of his head and gave a yawn, though it was hard to tell if it was out of tiredness or boredom. Meg internally celebrated. Her plan was working! David will certainly get the truth out of Jake with his blabbering mouth. She sat back, finding it impossible to hide her triumphant grin. David shot a glare at the Asian before continuing. 

"I used to pry the ladies off me, more than I bet you could say."

"I don't need to brag to know I got some," Jake said flatly. Meg couldn't help but laugh at his response. A few other survivors heard Jake's verbal jab at David, and laughed along with Meg. David was fuming mad, and Jake could feel the beginning of an argument, so he sat up, letting the small of his back rest against his log as he crossed his arms. He almost always wins his fights with David, but it was _always_ entertaining. David bared his teeth at Jake, before returning his expression to calm and collected. 

"Oh _please_ , you were homeless Jake, no girl would want your dick."

"David!" Meg hissed again, but Jake silenced her with a raised hand. 

"First of all, I wasn't homeless, I just have a different definition on what makes a home, second, I could stop bathing for a year and _still_ get more ass than _you_."

"You mean get more dick?" David tried to mock. 

"I've got that too," Jake assured. It took everything in Dwight's power not to faint right there. Was Jake joking? Was he just playing along with David, or has he really been with a man before? If he did, did he enjoy it? Does he prefer it? His mind was a blur, brain running wild with romantic curiosity. He shot excited eyes to Meg, who was having a much harder time choking back her enthusiasm. She was clearly ecstatic, and Dwight couldn't believe he lost the bet. 

"Wait, are you serious?" Meg asked. 

"Yeah."

"Like, you've been with a _guy_ before?"

"Yeah," Jake raised a brow. "What about it?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I'm just surprised. I didn't expect you to like guys," she lied. "Was it a hook up or actual dating?"

"Both," he admitted. Okay, now Dwight might really faint. Jake's been with a guy before, and judging by context, it sounds like he's been with more than one. He couldn't take his eyes of Jake. He pictured Jake pinning him down onto a mattress, eyes half closed and his mischievous grin plastered on his face. He imagined his voice calling his name, letting him know he's Jake's and only Jake's. Before today he only pictured that being a fantasy, but now? He may have a small chance at something special with him. Jake looked back at Dwight, causing the nerd to rip his gaze from the man, heart pounding and cheeks burning. Meg took it upon herself to further the questioning. 

"Are you gay?" She asked. Jake shook his head and began slouching on his log, position turning back to how it was at the start. 

"I don't like labels. If I like someone, I like them. I don't need to say I'm straight or gay or whatever. It doesn't matter."

Dwight's about to have a goddamn panic attack, but it's not panic that's filling his mind. It's gay fantasy's. A gay attack? He darted his tongue over his suddenly dry lips as he tried to figure out where it was appropriate to let his eyes fall. Jake? No. Meg? Maybe. The fire? Sure. His heart was slamming against his chest and it was getting hard to breathe. Meg smiled at Jake's words, feeling giddy with hope. She's been rooting for Dwight and Jake to date ever since he came out and now that the possibility was there, she could hardly contain herself. She scooted forward in her seat. 

"So... do you have a preference?"

"Not really," Jake shrugged, choosing to answer before David tried to do it for him. "I've kinda gone through phases. Sometimes I like girls more, sometimes I like guys more. It kinda fluctuates."

"Nasty," David joked. He didn't mind gay people. Truth be told, he was a little curious himself, but he liked to make fun of Jake. The two have practically became brothers or close friends. 

"Oh shut up David," Jake replied, next to no bite to his words. "Not like sexuality really matters here."

"What? Are you trying to confess your feelings towards me?" David pulled his hands together by his face, in a mock romantic manner. "Oh Jake, I've always known you had a thing for me."

"Gross," he waved him off with a chuckle. "You are the furthest thing here from my type, but thanks for letting me know you'd be down for a booty call."

David snorted before adding "oh yeah, cum for me anytime, big boy." A thin string of jealousy pinged through Dwight. He knew they both were kidding, but still, it was hard not to think about it. Suddenly the image of Jake climaxing filled his brain. Lips parted in a quiet groan, eyes clamped shut and hair sticking to his forehead, slick with sweat. Dwight had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his flush. Meg was grinning like the Doctor. The two made wordless, excited glances at each other as David continued speaking. "What even is your type anyways?"

"Why? Wanna go out with me?"

"Haha, yeah, totally."

Dwight felt like his nose was going to burst with blood at how much pressure was in his head. It's getting really hard to not let out a flustered squeak or excited shout. He didn't want to draw in any attention, but sitting still and quiet was suddenly difficult. Jake scratched his chest through his parka and thought for a moment. 

"I dunno. Kinda depends on the person, but I guess I generally like guys who are... I dunno. Softer? Guy's who I could top," he laughed, drawing in a laugh from David. "I guess a guy kinda like Dwight."

"What!?" Dwight finally erupted. His shock caused several survivors to laugh, Jake included. God his smile was gorgeous. He didn't smile often, but when he did, it was like the sun finally came up on this land of never ending night. 

"What?" Jake smiled again, holding eye contact with the flustered nerd. Dwight couldn't believe his eyes, ears, everything. It was like everything just fell into place, right in his lap. He's Jake's type, or at least the closest to it? Does Jake like him? No, he couldn't. Could he? As the night passed, the current trial ended, as did the conversation about Jake's sexuality. Everyone was now at the campfire, most sleeping by this point, but the nights events replayed over and over in Dwight's head for days. Trials would happen and instead of focusing on generators, Jake's face would fill his mind. He'd heal others, but remember his words. Day's passed this way until he couldn't take it anymore. Nine days after finding out Jake's sexual fluidity, he decided to grow a pair and take a chance. He had already payed Meg with med kits, while also thanking for profusely for everything she's done for him. Dwight sat by the fire, warming his hands. He would look up to eye Jake's relaxed body, eyes shut like normal. Ever since that night at the campfire, he's caught Jake stealing glances at him, like he so often does to Jake. Jake's much more sneaky about it, but Dwight is certain he's letting him see it. It's getting to be too much. As Dwight thought about how to get Jake alone, Jake stood up. He stretched, letting his back crack and his lower abdomen peak out from his jacket, before getting hidden again when he lowered his arms. He cracked his neck as he walked away. 

"Where are you going?" Claudette called out. 

"A walk," he told her without turning back. Dwight's legs felt light. He has to follow him. Now's his chance to confront him. He waited, carefully memorizing which direction Jake went. Before long, he crept up and quietly stepped away from the group. He wasn't sure if anyone had caught him sneaking off, but nobody had called out for him, so he assumed he was in the clear. He quietly stepped through the woods, trying not to make a sound. He didn't even know what he was going to do when he found him. Was he going to actually talk to him and confess? He had no clue how to even bring the conversation around to that. Was he going to spy on him? No, that's weird and creepy. Dwight stopped, now in a fork in his path. The looked around, trying to spot Jake. He's been walking for several minutes now, but he hasn't even heard so much as a tree branch break. He eyed the two paths. Left or right. Simple decision enough. His inclination was to go right, but he paused. 

He remembered Jake saying something once. The Asian had said he often chooses left when presented the two options. Being that he, along with most other people are right handed, he's more likely to pick the right. People tend to follow their dominate side. Jake especially put this into practice when it came to trials. While everyone else goes right, he goes left. Typically, it works out. Jake liked doing things his way, and was sneaky by nature. So Dwight's gut urged him to go left instead. He stared down the right path, before turning and going left. He hardly walked ten feet forward before a hand clasped itself over his mouth. Another hand was placed on the back of his head and before he could react, he was gently pushed up against a tree. Looking at his attacker with wide eyes, he realized. It was Jake. His so called 'attacker' was smirking, clearly holding in a chuckle. Dwight gave a sigh of relief, body relaxing in Jake's hands against the tree. His crush removed his hands from him and rested an arm above Dwight's head, walling him into the tree. His body was only a foot away from his. Dwight's heart gave a thump. 

"I had the feeling you were gonna follow me," Jake muttered with a collected smile. 

"I..." Dwight babbled, feeling like a mouse being toyed with a cat. A poor, hopelessly gay mouse, purposely running into his cat crush. "I was just-"

"Just... following me?"

Dwight blushed at Jake's teasing, his heart beating a mile a minute. It was like a dream come true, Jake cornering him like this. His fingers were trembling. All he wanted to do was grab Jake by the shirt and pull him in for a kiss. 

"How... how did you know?"

"Well, you're not exactly stealthy," he chuckled, moving his arm away. He tucked his hands in his pockets and Dwight felt disappointed when Jake moved back to lean on a separate tree. Dwight let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, though he missed how close Jake was. Jake looked Dwight up and down, as if he was sizing him up or something. "Can I ask you something?"

"Um." Dwight was trying to mask his panicked expression. "S-sure?"

"How long have you liked me for?"

"Did Meg tell you!?" He nearly screamed. Jake looked at him confused, but then the realization struck him. 

"No... but I'm guessing you told her?"

"I-I-I... How'd you figure it out?"

"Dwight," Jake snickered. "You're not exactly subtle. I catch you staring at me all the time. I didn't think much of it, but then I noticed you always come to me first when I'm hurt in a trial, and won't leave me alone until I'm not bleeding anymore. You give me all your supplies, laugh at all my jokes, even when their not funny, blush whenever I touch you. I thought you were just shy at first, but then I realized you only really acted that way with me, so I kinda started suspecting you liked me. Then at the campfire the other day when Meg as asking about my history with guys, and I said the thing about you being my type, it just became too clear."

"I..." Dwight started. "Are you mad?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes looking by his feet. "I figured you wouldn't really want a... a gay guy crushing on you..."

"I don't care if you're gay."

"I know, I just-"

"And did it occur to you that I might like you back?"

Dwight's eyes flung up to meet with Jake's. Dwight's face was filled with astonishment. 

"What did you say?"

"Heh," Jake breathed. "You know, I actually like it when I catch you staring... makes me feel kinda good about myself. Kinda nice to have the leader check you out ya know?" Jake paused to laugh for a moment before continuing, "but you never seem to notice when I do it back."

"You check me out!?"

"All the time, but you never notice. I've even tried dropping hints but you never get it," Jake giggled. "I figured I could finally tell you when I got you alone. Looks like for once you took the bait."

"Oh my God," Dwight breathed, tugging at his hair. "I can't believe this."

"It's not that crazy. You're cute and-"

"You think I'm cute?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "What? Want me to prove it to you?"

"N-no," Dwight stuttered, despite wanting to know very desperately what he'd do to him to prove it. "I believe you, if you say I'm cute."

"Good," Jake smiled. "So, I'm not particularly romantic and since we're with the Entity now, I'm not quite sure where you want this to go."

"Where... where would you like it to go?"

"Hmph, turnin' it right back around at me huh?" Jake gave him a smile. "Well, we both like each other and frankfully, I think we make a good team. So I wouldn't mind dating, though I'm not sure what dating would even be like here. I couldn't take you to dinner or anything. I mean, if you want, we could be exclusive, or if you want we could be secretive about it. I don't really care. I'm just tired of feeling like I'm in the 'will they won't they' tv trope. I just want to be able to kiss you in peace." 

"You want to kiss me?" Dwight asked, knees nearly bucking and already getting a little too excited down below. 

"Well yeah," he shrugged. "If you don't want me to I-"

"No!" Dwight stopped him. "I want you to, but I just didn't expect _you_ to... to want to."

"Wanna kiss right now?"

"Fuck," Dwight exhaled. He never thought he'd hear those glorious words leave Jake. He wanted to kiss him so bad for so long. More than just kiss actually, but he never expected he'd get further than a simple pat on the back. Now things are looking like they could lead to more, things he's only thought about in his most sex craved dreams. "Fuck yeah. I just... I've never..."

"You've never," Jake pondered. "Kissed someone?"

Dwight shook his head. Jake looked at him like he just grew an arm out his forehead. He couldn't believe Dwight's never been kissed before. The guys cute. Dwight is in his early twenties, around twenty four if Jake remembered right. A twenty four year old who's never been kissed before? He supposed it wasn't unheard of, but looking the way Dwight does, he figured he would've at least lost his first kiss around seventeen. Jake lost his first kiss when he was in the fourth or fifth grade and lost his virginity when he was only fifteen. If Dwight's never been kissed, he's definitely never had sex before. Jake felt a twinge of arousal hit him, knowing that Dwight's body was completely untouched by anyone other than Dwight himself. 

"Can I be your first?"

"Please," Dwight couldn't help but beg. Jake strode up to him and put a hand over Dwight's cheek. The nerd leaned into his touch, feeling the worn texture of his gloved hand felt so good. Jake rubbed his thumb over his cheek, gently caressing his skin. Dwight already shut his eyes in anticipation and pleasure. Even if they stopped here, it would be more than he could ever ask for, but he doesn't want this to ever stop. Jake's thumb moved to Dwight's chapped lips. Jake dipped his head lower, forehead brushing against Dwight's. His other hand cupped opposite side of Dwight's head. He stood there, rubbing the other mans face for a while, memorizing it. He was taking in details he's never noticed before. Faint acne scars that dotted his skin, a small scar on his chin, dull, almost unnoticeable freckles that peppered his cheeks. A crease between his brows from a lifetime of worry, the way his eyes looked larger than they are behind his thick coke bottle glasses. The way his eyelashes curled, how his Adam's apple bobbed, ready for Jake to kiss his lips for the very first time. Jake's breath was taken away from the man before him. Dwight's eyes fluttered open. 

"What if I don't kiss good?"

"I don't care," Jake admitted, voice barely above a whisper. He didn't even realize how bad he wanted this until this very moment. He felt like it was actually he who was losing his first kiss, not Dwight. "I'll go slow."

With that, he leaned forward, barely brushing his lips against Dwight's. He could almost feel Dwight's knees buckle as his lips were soft like feathers against his own. The kiss was chaste, soft, experimental, but most of all, affectionate. Dwight wrapped his arms around Jake's shoulders, pulling him closer. Jake pushed into the kiss a little harder, testing to see how Dwight responds. Dwight may be slightly clumsy and a bit tactless, but more than made up for it in passion. Jake felt his own knee's feeling like jelly under the soft kisses. Butterflies flooded their stomachs and before too long, the kiss ended. Jake pulled back, noses still brushing against each other. 

"Wow," Dwight breathed, cheeks fire hot.

"Good?"

"Yes," Dwight nodded. He leaned forward, lips touching Jake's, before asking, "can we kiss again?"

"Want more," Jake asked with a chuckle, the vibrations tickling both their lips. 

"So much."

They kissed again, deeper this time. It was still tame, but both men leaned into it with eagerness. Dwight was mentally praying that he couldn't feel how hard he was as he clawed at Jake's jacket. They didn't know how long they kissed, but they knew it felt like their life was meant for this moment. As the kiss slowly faded, the need to catch their breath was enough to finally make them part. Jake gave him a peck on the cheek before backing away, giving him room. 

“Are you sure that wasn’t your first kiss?” 

"Well, unless you count me kissing my pillow at night in High School," Dwight joked, earning a laugh from Jake. "But yeah, first kiss."

"Was it good?"

"So good," he nodded. Jake smiled at him as he decided to find a nice place to sit on the forest floor. He rested his arms on his knees. Dwight followed his actions, though he sat an odd distance from the other man. Jake raised a brow at him before speaking.

"You can sit next to me."

Without hesitation, Dwight scoot closer, now sitting beside Jake, shoulders touching. A flutter in Jake's heart made his cheeks tingle. He was dumbfounded in himself for feeling so... so innocent. Touching Dwight felt so right, yet so childlike, like it was his first time crushing on someone. Like Dwight's his first... He shook the word from his mind. He rubbed the warm feeling from his cheek and wrapped an arm around Dwight. Dwight leaned into him more and rested his head on his shoulder. Heart happier than it's ever been. He nuzzled his head further into Jake, who made a small sound of content. 

"Am I bothering you?" Dwight asked, moving his head off the other man. 

"No," Jake said, opening his eyes. He looked down at Dwight and gave him a tender smile. "Come back."

Dwight gladly listened and rested his head back on Jake's shoulder, and it didn't take long for him to feel Jake's head rest on his own. His heart thumped and fluttered at the cuddles, the first he's ever had from a romantic interest. He almost wanted to cry he was so happy, but he felt like tears would ruin the mood. He nestled further into Jake, and soon, the sounds of the forest grew distant. His body warming as a pleasant, yet dreamless sleep overtook him. It didn't take long for Jake to follow behind. 

After that night, the two grew immensely close. When partnered in a trial, they finished it in half the time. Jake's spot soon became their spot. They'd sneak off, away from the campfire so they could talk and flirt in private. They'd share memories, tell stories, kiss and snuggle, all in peace, away from the other survivors. Dwight shared all the details with Meg, who was just as happy and excited as he. She was happy he finally was able to feel love, the way she felt it for him. She hugged him tightly, knowing she was able to help him win the heart of his crush. Dwight couldn't thank her enough, truly and utterly grateful he had her in his life. She's easily his best friend, and Jake was his secret boyfriend. Before he realized it, he didn't want to be free from the Entity anymore. He didn't want to go home. He didn't to see his old apartment, his parents, his coworkers and familiar faces. He didn't want to return to that place. He no longer considered that home because Jake wouldn't be there. A life without Jake was suddenly one he didn't want to live, and imagining it shook him to the core. He's found his home. It's not his old one, it's not the Entity's realm, it's Jake. 

The other survivors began to suspect the two were getting intimate, probably because Dwight couldn't stop the lovey-dovey eyes he gave Jake. Meg would tell Dwight about the rumors, who thought what and how often it was brought up, and he asked her to do him a favor. He wanted her to get the survivors opinions on gay people, but to keep it casual, not to draw too much attention to it. Meg nodded and gladly did as asked. She turned up with mostly positive things to say. Dwight supposed it was only a matter of time before he had to come out. So taking Jake's hand in his own, he came out to the group as a whole. Jake let him speak, though an arm around Dwight's waist let him know that if anyone spoke with malice in their words, Jake would't let it slide. David King of course teased Dwight, but not in the way most would assume. Upon hearing he was gay, he stood up, tore the shirt from his own body and proceeded to ask 'am I pretty?' Dwight looked at him with confused, but mostly unimpressed eyes. David flexed his highly muscular body, as if to tempt the gay man, but once he realized Dwight wasn't going to give him the reaction he desired, he sat back down and put his shirt back on. 

Some of the survivors asked him questions, some gave shifted glances, but for the most part, everyone took it gracefully. In fact, some other survivors decided to come out not long after, deciding it was safe to show their true selves after the leader did. Now he knew he didn't want to leave. Back home he would've never been this happy or accepted. He never would've felt loved. Here, he finally felt like he acquired all he asked for. Sure, getting killed is horrific, never dreaming again is sad, but just so long as his new family was with him, he felt like he was going to be okay. As time passed, Dwight being gay was common knowledge and no longer brought up in conversation. He and Jake were now an exclusive couple, known by all. The boyfriends finally could snuggle by the campfire, and group conversations grew a little more honest as days went on. 

One day, Jake and Dwight knew they'd be entering a trial together later in the day, or night rather. That sparked an idea in Jake's creative mind. By this point, he and Dwight have been dating for either weeks or months. It was hard to tell when the sun never rises on this cursed land. At the campfire, he pulled Dwight's head close and whispered an idea into his ear. Dwight flushed, but the idea was tempting. Risky, but very, _very_ tempting. He couldn't get his mind off it until the trial began. There, the boys put their plan in motion. Jane and Ash, their partners for this trial, would work on two generators. Jake and Dwight will do the same. Depending on which duo finished their objectives first, they'd finish off the last one, then Ash and Jane would open a door and escape through that one. That would, 'draw the killer' to that door, so the boys could 'escape' through the other. That is what they planned with Ash and Jane anyways, but the two had a different idea in mind. The trial started and the plan was put in motion. One, two, three and four generators down. Dwight peaked his head up from his hiding spot, trying to see any figures, friendly or foe. He also tried to see the last generator as Jake pawed at him. 

"Come on," he urged. 

"We should do the last generator."

"They've got it," Jake selfishly mumbled, nuzzling his head into Dwight's shoulder and neck. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriends frame. "It will buy us more time."

"But," Dwight started, but was cut off when Jake planted a flirty kiss on the nerd. Dwight returned the kiss, keening into it. 

" _Buuuut_ ," Jake repeated, drawing out the word. 

"Fuck," Dwight rolled his eyes. "Where do we go?"

Jake's face lit up with childlike joy before giving a perverted smirk. He leaned over a rock and shot glances all around. The woodsman had a crafty survival instinct, one that Dwight trusts full heartedly. All of the sudden, Jake grabbed Dwight's wrist and pulled him to his feet. The scurried off with him, taking him to the furthest corner of the trial. As they approached the corner, Dwight realized the plan. There was a massive rock and tree there, perfect coverage. They could be on their knees and the rock would still hide the tops of their heads. It was in the corner of the brick wall, so they'd be hidden from the side and back. The rock covers most of the front and tree covers the other side. Almost full coverage. In this area, there were no doors, no generators, no buildings, just tall grass. There would be no reason for a survivor, or killer for that matter, to come here. There was next to nothing here, and if a survivor did hide behind the rock as a last attempt at hiding, it would be suicide. They'd be cornered and trapped. With that being said, this location was risky, but so risky that nobody would be stupid enough to go here, thus, the killer will never find them. 

"Are you sure this will work?" Dwight nervously asked as he stepped behind the rock through the little path they had. He trusted his boyfriends judgement, but he couldn't stop himself from asking. 

"Should. Now comere," Jake pulled him in by his hips. Dwight already felt his knees getting weak as their kissing began. Jake leaned back on the tree as the two exchanged hot kisses. He let his hands wander, before dropping them down to ghost over Dwight's rear. Dwight let out a soft, already aroused gasp as he wrapped his arms around the saboteur. Their kiss deepened as he felt Jake rub and cup his ass in his hands. He gave him playful and painless pinches, loving the way Dwight leaned his hips into his own. Dwight nipped at Jake's lips as he pawed up and down his chest through the parka, wishing it was off. He's only seen Jake partly shirtless once. Jake had received a nasty stab by the Legion, and Dwight was the only one left with a med kit. That day he got to see Jake's full, bare back. How scandalous. Not like Jake's seen much more skin from Dwight, less in fact. Dwight was about to zip the jacket open, but a gentle hand stopped him. 

"Shouldn't," Jake panted, slightly out of breath. "We should keep our clothes on, just in case."

"Right," Dwight nodded before kissing him. Even in moments like these, Jake was able to keep his thoughts clear. Since they've started dating, Jake's gotten highly protective over Dwight. As much as he wants to see him naked, and show him his own nude frame, there was still a chance of getting caught with their pants down. He wouldn't mind dashing out of the trial in less than acceptable clothing, but he know's Dwight wouldn't appreciate that it was him. If Dwight tries to take off Jake's clothes, it would be hard for him to resist the temptation to do the same to his nerd. Slowly, they slid down the tree, finding their way onto their haunches. Dwight's glasses already began to fog. He watched as his boyfriend tore off one of his dark gloves and shoved it deep inside a pocket. He licked the tips of a few fingers before snaking his hand up through the bottom of Dwight's button up shirt. He blindlessly found one of Dwight's nipples. Dwight shuttered out a silent moan was he clung to his boyfriend, kissing his neck all over. Jake gave a satisfied hum as he rubbed slow and tender circles on Dwight's pink nipple. The leader shifted closer, tucking a leg between Jake's, all the while letting one between his own. He shyly ground his hips into his boyfriends knee, and Jake mimicked his actions. 

Jake grabbed a fistful of Dwight's dark locks and gave him a passionate kiss. He didn't pull hard on his hair, just a seductive grip to made the other man whimper in mind numbing pleasure. Gentle and methodical circles tracing over his areola, before reverent rubs and soft pinches on his hardened nub were driving him towards insanity. He was so hard, harder he's ever been in his life. Jake's tongue explored his neck and jaw, the trail it left was cold, but it fueled Dwight's desire like coals in a kindled fire. Jake suddenly withdrew his hand from under Dwight's shirt, making his lover whine at the loss of sensation. Jake leaned back against the tree, nearly flat on the ground. He pawed at Dwight's hips until he got a steady grip on them. He pulled him, urging him to straddle him. Just the thought of it made a bead of precum pool in his underwear. The virgin timidly stretched a leg over the Asian American, feeling as though he may crush him under his weight. Before he seated himself, Dwight arched, peeking over the rocks edge. He eyed the forest, trying to look for any figures in the darkness. Jake pulled him down by his hips, pushing his ass to meet with Jake's groin and God. He was hard, really hard. Dwight shuttered in pleasure. The feeling of his boyfriends dick poking him through their clothes was heaven. He had no idea he had this affect on Jake, and his heart rate accelerated fast. He wanted Jake so bad. He wanted Jake to take him, take his virginity and make him his. He wanted to be bent over and Jake huff hot breath into his ear. He wanted love to be made to him until he couldn't walk straight. He wanted him so bad. 

"Fuck," Dwight whined. 

"Shh," Jake quietly reminded, grinding his hips into his boyfriends, who greedily accepted it all. He was both gentle, yet slightly aggressive, his body yearning for his boyfriend. He hasn't had sex in so long, and before Dwight he didn't crave it. He hardly thought about it, preoccupied with life instead. Dwight awoke the urges deep within him. All he wanted to do was snuggle and have sex with Dwight. He wanted Dwight's legs pulled up and over his shoulders as he whispered sweet nothings into his lovers ear, feeling his body shudder underneath him. He loved imagining what Dwight's face under pleasure would look like, how sweet he'd taste under his tongue. Jake could handle almost anything. He could handle neglect, rejection, stress, fear, pain; emotional and physical, trauma and so much more, but the couldn't handle keeping his hands to himself when Dwight's in front of him. He's not good at conveying feelings verbally. He wanted to make Dwight feel as good as he does when he's with him. He lifted Dwight's shirt up to expose his full chest to him. His body was thin and pale, a few scars here and there, most will disappear over time due to the trials. Just like death, scars aren't permanent here. Jake couldn't hold himself back. His ungloved hand hand found it's way to his boyfriends nipple again and rubbed it, as the other one was attacked by his mouth and tongue, pleasure washing over Dwight's body. 

He didn't have to grind up into Dwight anymore, because Dwight was already grinding down on him. His hips were anchored down, moving on their own, desperate to feel Jake's cock pressing into him through their clothes. His hips were on fire, and he couldn't stop himself from palming his own dick through his work pants. He bit down on his other hand to muffle any noises that threatened to leave his lips. He's been though so much pain, so much agony, that the swirling tongue and cock pressing into him were making his body a trembling mess. After so much pain, he truly craved something as sweet as this. Jake licked at Dwight's chest, feeling the nipple grow hard under his loving touches. He sucked down on it as his hands gripped Dwight's hips hard. He gave him a sharp thrust through clothes, and Dwight nearly squealed in pleasure, if not for the hand he bit down on. The front of his underwear were sodden, soaked with precum. Jake looked up at him, making sure he didn't accidentally hurt him, but the look of pure bliss on his face practically forced Jake to do it again and again. He bounced him up and down, thrusting his hips into Dwight's. He tugged at his wrists, suddenly needing to kiss him badly. They engaged in a hot and fervent open mouthed kiss before he couldn't hold his thoughts back. 

"Fuck Dwight, you're so hot," he panted, brows tightening with pleasure. "You turn me on so bad."

Dwight kissed him hard, wrapping his arms around wherever he could grip. Their tongues wrestled. Their panting, though remaining quiet, grew heavy. 

"I love you Jake," he couldn't help but confess. A spark of anxiety hit him, unsure if that was the right thing to say, but when Jake replied, all stress melted away. 

"I love you so much," he answered back, pressing his lips into Dwight's. 

"I love you, I love you so much Jah-Jake," Dwight repeated, grinding harder, joyful tears threatening to leave his eyes as pleasure washed over him in tidal waves. "I love you."

Dwight grabbed Jake's hand and pushed it down to his aching dick. He held it there and gave out a simple plea "please touch me."

Mesmerized, Jake obeyed and rubbed Dwight through his pants, erection easy to palm at. Dwight thrusted into Jake's hand and ground his hips in as Jake bounced him up and down over his hard, aching cock. It was getting extremely hard to keep himself silent. His eyes rolled back in pleasure and his body shook in ecstasy. This was the best he's ever felt in his life. They've hardly begun, but the need to cum was almost unbearable. Jake seemed to be feeling it too, because his thrusts became more fierce and his hand massaged Dwight's member with more urgency. Dwight let out a moan, a bit louder than intended, but not loud enough to call in anyone far away. Jake nearly growled at the sound and he pulled Dwight's shirt back up with his free hand to start licking at his chest again. 

"Jake, I'm gonna cu-" Dwight started, but though fogged lenses, he saw something that ended his sentence. He quickly rubbed the steam from his glasses, never taking his eyes off the shadow. Once the lenses were clear, the need to orgasm vanished. A figure stood in front of him, leaning a massive arm on the tree Jake had only moments ago been leaning on. Dwight swore the man looked nine feet tall. His body was gigantic, muscles extremely defined and chunks of metal pierced his body like nails in a two by four. The monsters apron was dripping with blood, his forearms stained with the red liquid, as if he plunged his arms deep within a bucket of it. The monsters mask was made of bone it seemed, fake jaw and teeth curved into a heinous grin. It was Trapper. Less than two in a half feet from the small nerd who was sat on his boyfriends lap. He watched intently and Dwight's body froze like ice. Jake, noticing the sudden stiffness, he looked up to check on him. The look of fear that was plastered on his face was enough reason for Jake to follow his gaze. He looked behind him, and noticed the killer standing over them. 

" **Havin' fun boys?** "

Both men were still, unable to move. They were trapped in the corner of the trial, the only way out was from behind the rock, but they'd never escape the killers reach. It would be impossible to outrun the killer. Before they'd even get to their feet he'd have their heads. In this moment, it was hard to tell what was worse, Jake being pinned to the ground by Dwight's weight, unable to run, or Trapper now knowing Dwight was a bona fide bottom. There was no way he heard them. Finding them would be next to impossible, unless he saw them hide there to begin with. If that was the case, then was he watching the whole time? Neither man wanted to know the answer to the question only Trapper knew. Even pleasure ran from this beast of a man, because the peak that both of them were rapidly approaching only moments ago, was now fleeing back. Jake waited for someone to move, Dwight or Trapper, but both stayed still. Dwight tightly holding his breath in, and Trapper panting. Jake's eyes lingered lower and noticed the erection nudging at the killers apron. 

" **No need to stop boys. Continue.** " The words came out like a threat, and Dwight and Jake knew they were truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew that was a lot. I am absolutely in love with Dwight x Jake, I find them so cute, and I wish they were more common. I may be writing about them the most, but I will still take requests or prompts if they interest me. The biggest problem I faced when writing this chapter was deciding which killer would find them in their heated moment. I was stuck between Trapper, Ghostface, Legion and Michael. I had small alternate endings planned for each, but Trapper was the one I felt was the best, but I was this close *brings thumb and index finger close together* to choosing Ghostface instead. If you'd like me to write an alternate ending with him instead, let me know. If nobody does I won't do it. Anyways, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you have a fantastic day/night.


	5. Dwight x Ghostface: Obsessed (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When 3 survivors die in quick succession, Dwight must find the hatch. Unfortunately for the leader, the killer easily predicts this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this took so long to post. I was working on a totally different chapter for a few days, but it sucked so bad I gave up on it. Then I got inspired to write this, but a writers block hit me like a train. Hopefully it's still enjoyable to read, because I re-wrote it about 3 or 4 times total. 
> 
> This chapter contains unconsensual touching, so read with caution.

The trail began and as per usual, there were four survivors and one killer. Who will make it til the end? That’s the Entities question. The survivors were as follows; Dwight, Jake, David and Ace. Dwight and Ace materialized through the fog only feet away from one another. As Ace tried to walk away, Dwight had grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. The gambler looked at the leader with a quizzical eye. Dwight tried to form a plan with him, but the man waved him off. The gambler claimed that plans never work, before walking past Dwight. Dwight tried to call him back, but Ace was stubborn. He seemed to be the type of guy who only listened to himself unless prompted to do otherwise. Dwight signed. He couldn’t force anyone to listen to him, but he wished in moments like these that Ace would at least try and have some sort of plan in mind, instead of following after his own goals. Dwight could only accept the fact that this trial would be one without a plan. As he walked into the opposite direction, a scream filled the air. 

He hardly walked ten feet from his starting point, and Ace was already injured. Dwight snapped his head in the direction of the scream. They couldn’t have been in the trial for more than a minute and Ace was already downed. Dwight darted back silently, adrenaline kicking in and ready to unhook him, but when the sounds of squelching and and thumping hit his eardrums, he realized the terrible truth. Ace was getting mori-ed. As Ace’s desperate and agonized screams fell quiet, the sound of the Entities tendrils consumed all noise. Dwight watched as the Entity claimed his teammate. He could hardly believe his eyes. The trial has just begun and he’s already lost a friend, even if Ace may not consider him a friend. Dwight held his breath as he tried to figure out what killer he’d be facing. The killer rose to their feet, and dashed off. In that quick glimpse Dwight noticed two things. One, it’s a male and two, he’s wearing dark clothing. 

This was important because it narrowed it down considerably. The Shape, Legion, Ghostface and Deathslinger all wore dark clothing. Occasionally the Doctor did too, but Dwight was able to rule him out because the sound of electricity and raw insanity was absent. The Doctor also rarely killed his victims this fast. He usually preferred to take his time, slow and steady. Letting their minds fill with static before taking them out one by one. This killer didn’t seem very patient today, so the Doctor was unlikely. No gunshots were heard either, so that crossed the Deathslinger from his list too. That left Shape, Legion and Ghostface. The stabbing sounds also supported this. Dwight swallowed a lump in his throat as he began backtracking, creating distance between he and the killer. 

Only a few tense moments passed before another scream howled out into the dark. David this time, and after only a few seconds, the Entity claimed it’s next victim, another death by mori. Dwight shuttered in terror as he was crouched down, trying to find a generator. Two survivors already dead. There’s no way he could make it out alive if his teammates were dropping like flies. At least Jake is still alive, wherever he is. He’s good at staying quiet, silently working on generators. He was very skilled at getting them up alone, so this would prove to be very valuable this time around. As Dwight found his first generator, he settled on his knees in front of the machine. Pulling out two wires to begin fixing it, Jake’s voice hollered out into the night sky. The pain in his voice was apparent. 

Dwight almost paused in place as he realized the killer also mori-ed Jake. Three survivors down in less than ten minutes. His trembling fingers struggled to work on the generator. His mind was filled with the idea of getting mori-ed. He hated mori deaths. They’re painful, terrifying and sometimes downright humiliating. This killer must be pissed, or more than likely Michael Myers, the Shape. He tried to ease his mind, but every howl of the wind sounded like someone breathing down his neck, every leaf brushing against the ground sounded like someone approaching him. He was driving himself up a wall. If his hands weren’t busy, he’d be biting his nails until they bleed. Making it out of a trial was hard enough when it was all four of the survivors working together, but alone is a whole other form of hell. He’s screwed for sure. If he gets hit even once, he’s as good as dead. He needs a plan. Stay quiet, don’t get hit, repair two generators and get the hell out of there. The two generators should be enough to appease the Entity to let him escape through the hatch, hopefully. It was going to be a long process, but he had to try. 

As soon as the generator popped on, he practically flew away with how fast he ran from it. He didn’t stop running until he made it to another generator, heart about to beat free from his chest. This generator was tucked in a half torn down shack. He had a mixed relationship with the dilapidated buildings. On one hand, they offered him coverage and a few obstacles to slow the killer down if a chase begins. On the other, the coverage is still minimal and the obstacles could also potentially slow him down as well. It’s pros were also it’s cons. Dwight shot glances all around, eyes scanning for any movement that wasn’t his own. His eyes and ears were practically glued open, ready for anything to come his way. He was ninety percent sure the killer was the Shape, and being that Michael is a silent killer, he has to be vigilant. He began the long and stressful process of working on his second generator. If he lives through it, he’ll be able to find the hatch and hopefully escape. Connecting wires between shaky breaths, Dwight’s heart pounded with the rising sound of the generator. If he wasn’t on his knees, his legs would be bouncing in anticipation. Body ansty and just about to enter flight. The generator was getting louder and louder, practically howling like a wolf to the night sky. Soon, it turned on with a bang, and Dwight has never rose to his feet faster. 

As he ran from the generator, he knew it was time to locate the hatch. He didn’t expect it to be easy, but he certainly didn’t expect it to be as hard as it turned out to be. He decided it would be best to check the outer edge first, being that it offers the most coverage and the edges tend to house the hatch more often than not. He looped around the trial at least once, but he couldn’t seem to find the hatch at all. It was odd, but Dwight couldn’t do anything about it. He figured it must be closer to the center of the trial, which wasn’t a good thing for the timid leader, but he didn’t have a choice. As he searched, he found little comfort in the silence in the air. The nothingness, only the wind making sound, only made him feel more uneasy. He hasn’t seen or heard the killer since the start. He’s been in the trial for around an hour and a half. The first ten minutes his teammates were all killed and he found his first generator, the next twenty minutes were doing the two generators and making sure the killer wasn’t near. The remaining thirty to fifty minutes was him searching for the damn hatch. 

He wished he had a damn map, and why hadn’t the killer found him yet? Was the killer watching him? Waiting for him? He couldn’t stop shaking as he began getting closer to the center of the trial. He peeked behind every rock and tree, eyeing for any movement. It was a slow go, but slow is better than mori. A brick fence came into view from the distance. He made his way over to it, and soon a familiar om sound filled the air. A wave of relief crashed over him and he peeked around the corner. There it was, the hatch, in all its glory. It was open and ready for him to disappear into it’s darkness. He hardly noticed the locker only three feet from the hatch, and as he sped forward to it, it was a total shock when a figure jumped out of the locker and knocked him back. He landed on his back with a grunt and eyed the figure on him. Black leather covered the killer, the eerily floating leather straps behind him and the long faced white mask was enough for him to figure out who the killer was. 

“You really took your sweet ass time didn’t cha?” Ghostface barked out. 

“Get off me!” Dwight shouted, terror rising in his chest. He pushed, punched, kicked and scratched, trying to get the killer off him, all the while feeling his heels scrape the edge of the open hatch. Ghostface didn’t stab him like how he thought he would, instead he gripped his tie and collar of his shirt, lifted him up in a sitting position and bitch-slapped him. Dwight let out a hiss in pain and then a yelp of shock when he was lifted off the ground. Ghostface held him by his shirt and tossed him back several feet. He landed on his reer with a hard thump. Ghostface took a backwards step over the hatch. With it now in front of him, the dark eyeholes in his mask burned Dwight as he kicked the hatch permanently shut for the rest of their little game. 

“No!” Dwight exclaimed, scrambling back. He watched as Ghostface ground his foot into it, making sure it will stay shut. Then, he turned his attention back to the trembling man. He stretched, loosening his muscles from under his leather suit. Dwight would run, but there’s no escape now unless he fixes the other three generators, and there’d be no way he’d be able to complete them without getting caught by the killer who’s already spotted him. Once Ghostface stopped stretching, he twirled the knife he had in hand and approached the leader. 

“You know, you really fucked up my streak. I was gonna get'cha all under twenty minutes but then you took your fucking time.”

Ghostface didn’t sound angry, but he didn't’ exactly sound pleased either. More annoyed. Like an angry father who has to drop his kid off at school, but they couldn’t find their backpack. Dwight backed away from Ghostface, unsure of what the should do. Take his death? Try to work on the generators? Try and find a key? If he did find a key, he’d be able to unlock the hatch, but they rarely showed up when he needed them to. He also didn’t like hearing the murderer talk either. Killers didn’t talk much, some of which were mute entirely, like Shape. Some seemed to understand words but can’t seem to repeat them, like Hag. While others occasionally spit out a threat or a curse like Spirit and Pig. Then there were the more talkative ones, the ones who enjoyed letting their voices be heard. These killers often mocked, threatened, sometimes even gave false complements to survivors, such as “your screams sound nice”. Ghostface by far was the most talkative killer. Sometimes survivors would hear him talking to himself, muttering incomprehensible words. Ghostface definitely seemed to be one of the more sadistic of the killers, from what the survivors could tell. 

He laughed at their screams, often spoke in a tongue and cheek manner, and even occasionally sung songs under his breath when he was in a good mood. David King swore he heard Ghostface singing MC Hammer’s ‘U Can’t Touch This’, while he was scoping the area for survivors, not knowing David was only feet away from him under a car. This good attitude and excitement for killing wasn’t like the others. He didn’t kill for revenge or out of anger like Oni, Spirit or even Hag. He didn’t kill because the Entity forced him to like Trapper. He killed because he likes to. He even opened up his camera to take pictures of his victims in horrific and embarrassing angles and shots. He’d even lay on the ground to get the proper shot. Sometimes even dragging their lifeless bodies over to places with better lighting. Ghostface wasn’t just a guy. He was a sadist. On the subject of pictures, Dwight flinched as a flash momentarily blinded him. 

“Oh that’s a nice one,” the killer purred. “Alight, now time for some fun.”

Ghostface approached him, knife ready. Dwight’s heart was slamming against his poor aching ribs. He scrambled back, only for Ghostface to drag him back by his ankle. The killer straddled the man, pinning him down with his weight. Dwight knew he’d never be able to fight back. The Entity gave the killers inhuman power. The strongest survivor would be no match for the weakest killer. He could do nothing but stare up at the killer, silently praying he’ll go away. Ghostface cocked his head to the side and drew in an excited breath before readying the blade in his hand. Dwight was stuck in place, frozen in time like the very pictures in Ghostface’s camera role. 

“Please don’t mori me,” he mumbled out. Ghostface paused, looking down at Dwight with a curious eye. He brought the knife to his victims throat. He pressed it against his skin with gentleness Dwight didn’t expect. If not for the terror, it would have tickled it was so featherly light. Dwight tried to suck in his throat, doing his best to inch away from the knife. He tried to absorb himself into the ground. Despite the killer wearing a mask, Dwight could tell he was grinning. 

“Why shouldn’t I? Your ass kept me waiting for an hour.”

“I’m sorry,” Dwight said as a reflex. 

“You’re not.” Ghostface breathed as he grazed his knife along Dwights jaw. Dwight had no facial hair, but like any person, he had a thin layer of blonde hair covering his skin. Ghostface sliced the peach fuzz from his skin. “Why loose my streak for you?” 

Dwight couldn’t think of any reason that would convince the killer to spare him a gruesome death. He let out a shuttering breath as he clenched his eyes shut. He turned his face away and pressed his cheek into the dirt. He’d rather not see the knife come down upon him. Ghostface leaned forward, trailing his knife from Dwight's face to his breast bone. He watched as Dwight’s chest went up and down, anxiously awaiting for the pain to hit him. The killers stomach bubbled with excitement, heart fluttering when he heard his prey whisper a single word. “Please.”

“Oh fuck,” Ghostface smiled. “That’s right baby.”

Dwight peeked a confused eye at Ghostface. He quickly shut his eyes when the killer jerked his arm up with the knife. A stab sound filled the air, but when no pain punched Dwight, he opened his eyes again. The knife was stabbed into the ground. He shot the killer a confused glance and flinched again when a firm hand gripped his jaw. Ghostface gripped Dwight’s jaw with steady strength, occasionally rubbing his thumb over his chin. His own heart was pounding. He was grinning like a madman under his mask. 

“Beg. Beg for your life like a bitch. I might let you go,” Ghostface almost panted. Dwight’s stomach twisted. Ghostface was truly the most sadistic killer. Dwight knew he enjoyed the fear, the terror, the pain. He had a small theory that he got off on their agony as well, but that was just speculation. Having a murderer call him ‘baby’ wasn’t something he desired, but it was even more discomforting when Ghostface did it. Although, the idea of freedom was tempting. It’s doubtful that Ghostface will stay true to his word, but he had to try. 

“Please let me go.”

“Oh come on, you can do better than that,” Ghostface assured. He rolled his hips slightly into Dwight's abdomen, and the hard feeling pressing into the survivor was enough to confirm that Ghostface was indeed getting off on his misery. Just the thought of it disgusted and horrified him but the idea of getting mori-ed was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. 

“Please, I don’t wanna die,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry I waisted your time, please don’t hurt me.”

Ghostface let out a pleased sigh. He softly pet the side of Dwight's face, before gripping his hair and pulling his head back, exposing his neck. Dwight let out a mewl of fear as Ghostface drew his face closer to the leader. 

“Not bad. Could use some work though.”

He plucked the glasses off Dwight's face and inspected them. He admired the way his preys breathing hitched at the sudden blindness. Dwight’s glasses were thick, lenses similar to the bottom of a coke bottle, and frame reminiscent of black hipster glasses that were trendy in 2012 or sometime around then. Ghostface couldn’t remember exactly when they were popular. Dwight had a childlike face, cheeks soft, jaw soft, chin soft. His whole face was soft, no sharpness or harsh angles, except for a point to his nose. His eyes were a deep brown, but under the right light, Ghostface knew they’d brighten like pools of rich honey. Dwight wasn’t a model, he was nowhere near the requirements for such a title, but he was cute. Average in looks with his own touch of personal charm. 

Ghostface finally got off the nervous leader. He stretched again, body still stiff from waiting for so long. He wanted to get back at Dwight for making him exercise his patience, and he had the perfect idea of how to get back at him. Tucking his glasses into one of his pockets, he bent to the ground and picked Dwight up. He slung him over his shoulder, something that Dwight has gotten used to during his time under the Entities rule. Dwight let out a little shriek as he was blindlessly taken away. He didn’t struggle much, just a small squirm here and there out of reflex. He let out another yelp when Ghostface placed a hand on the junction of his butt and thigh. He gripped it hard, though it was hard to tell if it was meant to be platonically holding him in place or if it was sexually driven. Probably the latter considering the rod that was only moments ago poking him in the stomach. Dwight was suddenly dropped. With a whimper he took the fall. Looking up to the killer, he realised he really couldn’t make out any details about him anymore. If he didn’t already know it was Ghostface, he’d look like the Shape, or even Slenderman for that matter. 

“Alright babe,” Ghostface started. “Work.”

“Work?” Dwight tipped his head to the side, unsure of what the killer meant. Ghostface snorted, almost visibly rolling his eyes from under the mask and grabbed at his preys shoulders. He turned him around, making him face away from him and pushed him forward. Metal was pressed against Dwight’s body, and his hands reflexively tried to create some distance between the cold material. His hands knew what was in front of him within seconds of making contact. A generator. Ghostface took him to a generator? Is he really going to let him go? He looked behind to the killer, who seemed to be watching him, but he couldn't quite tell. “I can’t fix it without my glasses.”

“I bet you can. Unless you really want me to mori you.” That hung in the air for a moment. Dwight’s eyes were wide with terror, fingers shaking, and a pool of excitement burning in Ghostface’s stomach. “I could stab my knife in you, over and over again. I bet you’d make some really good pictures.”

“Okay! Okay, stop,” Dwight turned away, squinting at the generator. “I’ll try.”

“Do what you want, won’t make much difference to me.”

With that, Dwight began working. Well, working is a bit of an exaggeration. He first brought his face only inches from the machine, trying his hardest to make out the shapes and colors of the contraption. Everything far away was just a blurry smudge. Up close, things were still fuzzy, but he could make out more details, even if it was still minimal. He pulled out what he was pretty sure were two black wires and truly began working, all the while listening as Ghostface spoke. Though he wasn’t sure if the killer was talking directly to him, or to himself. Ghostface did that sometimes, and David King often laughed calling him a schizo. Dwight wasn’t sure what was in Ghostface’s head. He just knew the dude was scary, sadistic and not someone to mess with. 

The generator suddenly made a loud bang noise, startling the blind man. Dwight flinched back with a gasp, and Ghostface barked out a laugh. He sat on a log as he watched his prey calm himself before continuing to work. Ghostface couldn’t help but smile. The way Dwight’s brows were tightly knotted together, lips parted as his attention was on the generator. Ghostface loved the way he’d pause and squint, double checking what was even in his hands, then would laugh again when the generator would blow from Dwight making a mistake. Each time the generator retorted against the survivors actions, Dwight would flinch back, sometimes yelping in shock at the sudden brightness and noise. Ghostface was muttering to himself again, or to Dwight, the survivor wasn’t listening by this point. He just wanted to finish the generator like how he was told. Generators were never this hard, but after about twenty minutes of blindlessly flinching on his knees, the generator finally started up. The sound of clapping filled his ears before he was grabbed and pulled by his arm to his feet. 

“Well done,” Ghostface congratulated, but sincerity in his voice was absent. He was pulling Dwight away, and the leader could only follow him, lightly tugging at his arm. 

“Where are we going?”

“Where do you think?” Ghostface laughed. “You’ve still got two more to do.”

“Can I at least have my glasses ba-hk!” Dwight said as he was tossed to the ground. Beside another generator, he looked up to the killer. Hoping that he’d take a little more mercy on him and let him be able to see. Ghostface leaned forward, practically walling Dwight into the generator. 

“Nah, that would be too easy baby,” he cooed, thumbing over Dwight’s hairline and temple. “You can do it. We’ve got time. All the time in the world… just you and me.”

“But,” Dwight shuttered, still uneased by the affectionate nickname the killer called him. 

“No buts,” the killer ruffled his hair. “Now get to work.”

Doing as he was told, Dwight turned around and began working on the generator as Ghostface watched. He could feel the prying eyes on his body, and he shuttered again. This time Ghostface was silent as he watched, and that silence translated into anxiety for Dwight. A quiet Ghostface has proven to be a deadly one. The stress in his body made his hands shake like he had Parkinson’s. The generator kept banging every now and then, occasionally sending sparks in Dwight’s face, causing him to hiss in pain and let out a shriek. The stress was making it near impossible to complete this one, and honestly, Dwight wasn’t sure if he was doing more or less damage to the machine. Approaching the end of this generator, it blew three times in quick succession, causing tears to finally fall from the leaders eyes. His hands were bawled into fists as he covered his face, letting out a few panicked sobs. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as his nose began to clog. He heard Ghostface approach him, and when a hand was placed on his shoulder he let out another panicked cry. Ghostface rubbed his shoulders in his gloved hands, and if it wasn’t a serial killer doing it, it would actually be comforting. 

“C'mon babe,” Ghostface purred in his ear. “You’re almost done, only got two more.”

Sniffling another sob away, Dwight rubbed the tears from his eyes and continued on. He still wanted to cry, but the sooner he finishes the generators, the sooner he can be free from this asshole. It took a few more minutes with Ghostface continuing to palm at his shoulders, but soon the generator clicked on and he had completed a total of four generators now. Two of which were done without the ability to see clearly. Just as Dwight let out a relieved sigh, Ghostface pulled him up to his feet, and like before, tugged him around the map like a ragdoll. When he finally brought him to his next generator, he pushed him onto his knees. He gripped his head tightly in his hands, causing Dwight to grip his wrists and retaliation. Under the mask, Ghostface admired the contorted look of fear on his preys face before letting him go. 

“Okay baby, last one.”

Dwight nodded. Like before, he began working. Doing generators without his glasses is a nightmare, but he’s slightly getting the hang of it. Truth be told, it was probably for the best that Ghostface was forcing him to do this. If he ever lost his glasses or if they broke during a trial, he’d need to be able to do this. God forbid it happens, but at least he knows he’ll be able to complete them given time. Maybe a survivor could taunt the killer while he worked to buy him some time. Who knows. He wasn’t failing on this generator as much as the last, and Ghostface seemed disappointed. He was hoping to have the last one go out with a bang, and then an idea crept in his head. He watched a few more moments before kneeling down behind Dwight. He placed his hands on Dwight’s upper arms, gently rubbing them up and down. 

“Doin’ good baby,” he purred. Dwight opted not to reply, and to just keep working. The killer eyed Dwight’s hands from over his shoulder, and Dwight shivered at the sound of the killers breath behind his mask. The right side of his face tingled at the sinsation. Ghostface let his hands trail down to Dwight's hips, and he gave them a strong, mildly painful squeeze. The survivor let out a gasp, but continued to work. The killer traced a finger on the survivors belt a few times before palming his rear though his pants. Dwight paused and peeked behind him to eye the killer. 

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Why-” Dwight started, but was cut off from the killer. 

“Just keep workin’ babe, unless you wanna earn your freedom a different way.”

Dwight let out a shaky breath before returning his attention to the generator. He knew what Ghostface was doing now. He wanted him to struggle, to become embarrassed and flustered. Ghostface wanted to bring some extra misery, just like when he takes the photos of survivors. Dwight tried to ignore the way Ghostface cupped his ass, the powerful squeezes between methodical and nearly tender caressing. As much has he hated to admit it, the killer was very skilled with his hands. If it was someone else, particularly a romantic partner, doing this, it would actually feel quite nice. He connected wires and twisted bolts between his thumb and index finger while Ghostface pet his rear and thighs. Dwight could feel the killers eyes all over him, and felt a blast of shock when he heard fabric shift and something wet drag along the back of his neck. Ghostface, now maskless, sucked on the back of the survivors neck, causing him to shiver. His hands explored him, and a bang from the generator made both jump slightly. 

“Having difficulties?” Ghostface purred, hand between Dwight's legs, petting his upper inner thigh. He let his tongue graze along Dwight's neck. Dwight tried to turn his head to steal a glance at the killer, but a sudden fist full of his hair kept his eyes forward. He winced at the pain. The killer’s mouth clamped down on his neck, with the sole intent of leaving a hickey on his skin. When the survivor felt a hand give his groin a squeeze, he let out a sharp gasp. The hand didn’t stay in place for long, before it dipped back, returning to his ass. The killer played with it more aggressively, body pushing into Dwight’s, making him lean over the generator. Once the hickey was dark enough, Ghostface popped off and admired his work, lightly panting. His hands groped the timid survivor, who finally mustered the courage to speak. 

“Why are you doing this? Why not just hook me?”

“Ha!” Ghostface laughed. “This is far more entertaining than just hooking you. Even killers can get bored from routine ya know.”

Dwight felt a blast of anger hit him. Killers get bored… of killing him? His friends and his teammates? Bored like its some meastly activity or household chore? Like it’s some kind of tv show you don’t really like but you watch it when nothing else is on? Dwight elbowed the killer, a swift jab in the ribs. Though, due to the lack of strength in the blow and the thick layer of leather covering the killers skin, it caused little pain. Ghostface grabbed Dwight’s throat, holding it tightly, slightly cutting off the air from his lungs. 

“Watch it babe, I’m being nice.”

“Sure,” Dwight sarcastically remarked. The hand on his throat tightened, fully cutting off his air. His hands reflexively gripped at the threatening hand. He clawed at the leather glove, trying to pry his neck free. Ghostface’s body was pressed against his back, and even though Dwight was getting choked, both men were surprisingly quiet and calm, one more so than the other. When Ghostace deemed his warning was understood enough, the let his grip lossen, letting oxygen fill the survivors lungs. Dwight breathed in the cold air and began to cough. The killer rubbed his back as his coughing fit grew more aggressive before finally calming down. His breathing finally eased, and returned to a rhythmic pase. 

“I like that,” Ghostface murmured into his ear, lightly nibbling at the flesh of it. Dwight nearly forgot the killer was maskless, and turned his face away from the contact. Dwight sighed and put his hands on the generator, trying to signal to the killer that he’s ready to continue working. Ghostface wrapped his arms around the leader, snaking his hands under his shirt, rubbing slow circles on his stomach. The survivor started working again, hunching over to both create distance between his attacker and to allow him to see what he was doing. The survivor sucked in his stomach, trying to inch away from the tender fingers on his skin. Ghostface gave him another hickey, this one on the side of his neck before speaking again. 

“You know, you’re really cute.” When he didn’t receive an answer from the survivor, he smiled and let one of his hands trail up to one of Dwight’s nipples. Bitting back a gasp, Dwight let the leather covered finger drag along his nipple. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep any sounds or shivers back, due to the cold material on his sensitive nub. Ghostface continued speaking, though he didn’t care if Dwight decides to respond or not. “If we met before the fog I’d fuck the shit outta you, I bet I could make you scream for me. Call my name and shit, bet you’d make some great photos.” 

Dwight tuned the killer out after that. He didn’t want to hear what kind of vulgarities will leave his lips next. Instead, he inched closer to the generator, eyeing eye wires and cables. He continued to ignore the gentle touches and the rod that was once again pressing into him, this time pressing into his tailbone. The generator began to grow loud, howling out louder and louder, and soon, the light above clicked on, and light shined down onto them. Ghostface slowly, as if disappointed, withdrew his hands and gave him one last peck on the neck before slipping his mask back on. Dwight looked behind to look at the killer once he heard the fabric settle in place. Ghostface ruffled the survivors hair before grabbing him by the tie and forcing him to his feet. The two stood next to each other for a brief silent moment, before Ghostface began to pull Dwight by the tie. Dwight let out a croak as he blindlessly followed along. 

A few panicked moments passed for Dwight before he was suddenly slammed against a wall with sudden force. Dwight’s head banged against the brick wall and he let out a hiss. The killer, now pinning him the wall, was only inches away from him. He grabbed the survivors chin and playfully shook it. Dwight eyed the fuzzy mask with uncertainty, before his elbow brushed against the exit gates lever. His eyes widened briefly as he snapped his head to his arm, before looking back at the killer. He parted his lips to speak but was beat to the punch. 

“Alright babe, open the door.”

Dwight obeyed, already used to taking Ghostfaces orders. He grabbed the lever and pushed it down, tucking it under his arm and letting his body hold it in place. The doors groaned as metal shifted inside it’s walls. He darted is eyes at the killer, praying he didn’t make him do all this just to kill him once the doors are open. However, it’s extremely likely that that’s the case, Ghostface did have a sick sense of humor. The doors hissed and the alarm began to blare out. He watched the killer glance up, trying to see exactly what makes that alerting sound. Soon he looked back at survivor, just as the doors began to open. Dwight, without thinking, began to run for the exit, expecting to be chased, but when he didn’t hear footsteps following him, he glanced back. The blurry figure of the killer remained still, just watching him. Dwight’s self conscious side began to feel like an idiot for running, but he shook it away. There was a reason why Ghostface was acting this way, but why? 

“My glasses,” Dwight said aloud. Ghostface snickered. 

“What about em?”

“Give them back. I need them.”

“Nah,” the killer shook his head. “I think I’ma keep them. For now.”

“What!?” Dwight exclaimed. A surge of anger hit him and maybe it’s because he’s right next to the exit, but he felt a blast of confidence hit him. With a lot more assertiveness than either expected, he said, “No, you give them to me now.”

“Or what babe? Whatcha gonna do? Take em from me?”

Dwight had half the mind to run up and give him a swift kick between the legs, but he knows it won’t do much. Hell, Nea kicked Trapper in the nuts once and it didn’t even make him take a knee. Nea, despite her stature is surprisingly tough. He glared at the killer, who he knows is smirking. Ghostface walked a little closer, stepping past the doors, causing Dwight to take a single step back. The killer pulled Dwight’s glasses out from one of his pockets and looked at them for a brief moment before glancing at the survivor. 

“You’ll get these back when I see you next,” he assured. 

“What!? No! I need them, I’ll die!”

“Not my problem.”

“No, please!” Dwight urged, remembering that Ghostface likes begging. He shook his dignity aside and pressed on. “Please I need them, please give them back.”

“Oh wow,” Ghostface gave a breathy laugh. “Where’d your bravado go? You were acting so tough, what happened?” 

“I-” Dwight started, but couldn’t think of what else to say. “Please, without my glasses I’ll die.”

“You’ll manage. I’ve give em’ back when I see you next.”

“No, please. I don’t know how long that’ll be, please I need-”

“Eager are we? I feel so loved,” the killer laughed. “I’ll make sure we see each other soon, the Entity listens to killers sometimes.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t,” Ghostface guaranteed before stepping closer to the survivor, tucking is spectacles away. He grabbed Dwight’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “But you don’t have a choice.”

With that, he pushed Dwight though the fog, making him disappear. He could still hear the “no” that the survivor screamed out before vanishing. Ghostface pulled out the glasses once more, waiting for the fog to claim him too. He smiled at the thick frame, knowing his life under the Entity just got a lot more interesting. He actually had something to look forward to other than killing people in boring ways. The fog began to take the killer from the trial, and all the killer could do was laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this, it was surprisingly difficult to write, but fun at the same time. Yes, I am still taking requests and I will continue working on the requests others have given me. I was just going though a writers block. I may do your requests out of order, so sorry in advance, but I will try to get to all of them. Thank you all for reading and being patient with me. I really appreciate it.
> 
> Also, as a side note, I do have a vague part 2 to this in mind, but I might not write it, unless someone would like to know what happens after. If you guys would like a second part to this let me know.


	6. Dwight x Ghostface: Obsessed (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been thirteen trials since Dwight had his glasses stolen by Ghostface. When all hope seems lost Ghostface appears, but not without a steep price to pay for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it took a while to post this, writers block has been a real bitch to me recently, so sorry if this isn't as good as my normal writing. I tried my best. 
> 
> This chapter is kinda dubious consent, so read with caution. Stay safe!

It’s never a good idea for someone to get on a serial killers bad side. In fact, it’s probably one of the worst decisions a person could make. Getting a killer to want nothing more than to hunt you down and slaughter you, never sounded like something Dwight would ever want. Many would agree with him on that. Getting a serial killer to want you dead would be the worst choice to make. Fortunately, Dwight never got on a killers bad side, even in the Entities purgatory. He weasled around, saved teammates and worked on generators, but never, ever chose to piss off a killer. Of course killers got annoyed and frustrated, but he refused to mock and taunt the killers when they failed. After all, Dwight was always fearful of them. There used to be no doubt in his mind that the worst thing he could ever do is make a murderer mad.

But now he knows otherwise. 

What could possibly be worse than a killer wanting to cut you open and watch you bleed? Simple really. Obsession. Having a killers full, undivided attention, was something that Dwight never wanted, let alone imagined. He never imagined a killer would take interest in him, let alone one like Ghostface. Ghostface reminded Dwight of those popular guys in high school. Cool and aloof, maybe edgy with a lot of snarky attitude. The type of guys who never seem to be bothered by anything, as long as it didn’t directly interfere with them. Guys who could make fun of teachers and students alike, treat people like objects and yet, somehow, people flock around them anyways. Ghostface would be one of those guys in high school who’d only notice Dwight when he needed something, whether it be lunch money or a punching bag. So, for Ghostface to give Dwight all the attention he had that trial that seemed so long ago, it was more than scary for the nervous leader. 

Dwight swore he could still feel the gloved hands on his body, petting him as he was blindlessly forced to work on generator after generator. He could still feel the lips that left marks on his neck. Speaking of the marks, he had a lot of explaining to do. See, the Entity only heals the worst of the injuries the survivors get. Stabbed, mutilated, broken and swollen body parts were healed and only had an ache within the meat and bones. Bruises and minor cuts remained until the next trial. When a new trial would come, the marks would disappear, clean from the survivors skin like a new canvas for the killers to paint their red artwork on. The hickeys that covered Dwight's neck remained as he stirred awake at the campfire. The hickeys were the last thing on his mind was he sat up, but when Nea inquired about the marks, he mentally cursed. He knew Ghostface did that on purpose. Just another way to embarrass the poor nerd. 

Dwight lied to the fellow survivor of course. Like hell he’d be honest. ‘Yeah, Ghostface killed everyone else, took my glasses and hickeyed me up before letting me go,’ he’d never be allowed to live that down. Instead, he insisted the marks were from the killer strangling him, which, Ghostface did choke him, but the marks were clearly not the shape of a hand and were on the back and sides of his neck, not the front. Thankfully, the survivors dropped it quickly, more focused on his lack of glasses. He admitted that Ghostface stole them, but he left out the details of how. Claudette, the sweet girl she is, offered her own set of glasses to him, but he refused. Her eyesight was much better than his, but her glasses would do next to nothing for him, and only slow her down as well. It would be a lose-lose situation, and Dwight couldn’t allow it. He thanked her, but ultimately declined. 

Time was hard to tell at the campfire. The sun never rises, so they have no idea how many days, if any passed. It felt like years that Dwight was blind. Day’s presumably passed, and he was sucked into trial after trial, and nearly killed immediately each time. His lack of vision was a curse on not only his shoulders, but for his teammates as well. If his teammates didn’t hold his hand through the trial, he’d be the first to die nearly every time without fail. David Tapp even saw the leader run face first into a wall while being chased at one point. At first the survivors were patient with him, but as the trials passed, some grew frustrated with him, despite knowing it’s truly not his fault. However, it’s always easy to blame the victim, isn’t it? Dwight truly couldn’t be upset with their anger, he was angry too. He was tired of being the toy, the clown, the gag to laugh at. He needed those glasses back, and when he’d be sucked into a trial, he’d always mentally beg; 

“Please be Ghostface. Please be Ghostface.” 

Hillbilly was the first killer after that terrible trial. Then the female Legion with pink hair. Dwight didn’t know any of the killers names, but he knew the names the Entity gave them. As trials went on, he’d always be disappointed to find the Clown, Nurse, Plague, Shape and Legion again, this time being the male with the smiling mask. He felt like crying when he heard in a separate trial Nancy, Kate, Laurie and Jeff all encountered Ghostface instead of he. Kate rubbed the leaders shoulders, giving him a tender smile and told him she tried to get his glasses back, but only met with a blade in her chest. His next killers were Wraith, Trapper and Legion once more. This time it was the one dressed in black with a lock on his hip. Demogorgon, Doctor and Deathslinger came too in that order. Thirteen trials he suffered blindlessly through, and each time he was always disappointed when the killer was not the one he seeked. So, when he entered yet another trial, he continued his hopeless plea. ‘Please be Ghostface’. 

When the fog cleared, he scanned the area, though to little affect. All he could get was that he was in the dark, it was cold and he was outside. That narrows it down, totally. He crouched to a wall, and squinted around. A figure slowly approached him, and he partially wanted to flee back, but he remained still. It’s most likely a survivor, and if it’s not he’s going to be the first to die anyways, so whats the point? The other survivors have gotten into the habit of leaving him once he’s hooked, so why prolong what’s already done? He let out a shuttering breath as the figure knelt down in front of him, close enough for him to make out their face. He sighed and glanced to his knees. 

“Hey Claud,” he whispered. 

“Hey,” she quietly responded. “You can hide in a locker.”

“Killers gonna find me regardless.”

“Yeah...” she nodded sadly. “You could try to work on a generator.”

“I’ll try, but I doubt I’ll be able to do much,” he muttered. He felt utterly useless. 

“Anything helps,” she reminded with a hand on his shoulder. She gently shook him to get him to look at her. Once their eyes met she looked back into the direction she came. “There’s a generator back there. It’s tucked into a corner, really hard to notice. I think Bill’s in the trial with us. We can keep the killer occupied while you’re working.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. He knows it’s inconvenient to them, but being able to do anything would make Dwight feel less like a failure. With that, the two parted from their company. He could feel eyes on him as he walked away, and assumed Claudette must be watching him, making sure he’s okay. The vague shape of a generator caught his eye, and just like she said, it was tucked into a blurry corner. He knelt down to the machine, and wiggled behind it best he could. It offers more coverage and will make him less likely to be spotted, however, it will make it near impossible to escape, but it’s really no different than his other trials without his glasses. Taking out two wires, he began working, but he didn’t work for long because a snapping branch broke his attention from the machine. His eyes scanned the area, looking for any moving shapes. There was a surplus of white blob shapes on the ground, and it finally struck Dwight. They were at the Mount Ormond Resort. That’s why it’s so damn cold. 

He puffed out a cloudy breath, looking around a little longer. He looked back down to the machine and continued working, not noticing the black figure creeping up to him. The figure edged closer, watching Dwight’s brows furrow, eyes squint and lips parted as he struggled to not let the generator blow. The figure bit it’s lip as it was now only six feet away. The figure’s heart was pounding. God, it was obsessed with this survivor. It wanted nothing more than to spend infinite hours playing with Dwight, toying with him. As the figure took in a silent breath, it decided to finally speak. 

“Long time no see baby.”

Dwight snapped his head over at the figure, and it only took a half second for him to recognize the white and black blur of a mask and the husky voice. It was Ghostface and Dwight couldn’t keep in his excited, yet startled, breath. He wasn’t happy to see the killer, he was happy to know his glasses are in his grasp. 

“Ghostface!” He barked, desperation in his voice. 

“Awe shit,” the killer laughed. “God, you do things to me babe. Even got yourself tucked into a corner for little ol’ me.”

“Can I have my glasses back?” Dwight got straight to the point, and Ghostface couldn’t muffle his laugh in time. He gave a hearty laugh before approaching the survivor, now cornering him into the wall and generator. 

“Desperate are we?”

“You said you’d give them back when I saw you next.”

“Oh yeah, I did,” the killer muttered, using a hand to grab Dwight’s hair and tip his head back slightly. 

“I waited for thirteen trials.”

“You counted them down? That’s sweet.”

The survivor forgot how much he hated the killer. Ghostface was a freak, lustful for anything bad. He was a bully, but if Dwight wants to beat the bully, he’s got to play the game. His expression was tense and determined, eyes full of dark fire. Ghostface’s heart pounded, hands feeling light. He wanted to do so much, but he has to keep himself tame. If he gets too excited, he won’t be able to control himself. That was one of his biggest problems. His excitement get’s the best of him sometimes, and when it does, he can’t control his actions. He’s got a lot of plans, so he needs to keep himself in check. 

“So… can I have them back?”

“Sure,” Ghostface breathed. “After I kill your friends.”

“Are,” Dwight shuttered. “Are you gonna kill me too?”

“Nah. I’ll be back for you. You, uh, you hang tight here, aite?”

“Okay,” the survivor nodded. Ghostface vanished from his vision within seconds, and a boulder of guilt formed in his stomach. How could he just accept the fact his friends will die? They’ll come back, sure, but he’s letting them die this time. Dwight was truly a piece of work. He sat, back against the hardly started generator, knees tucked into his chest as his fingers cramped from the cold. He brought them close to his mouth, and had to fight the urge to bite down on them. Instead, he exhaled hot breath into his palms in an attempt to warm himself. It didn’t take long for Claudette’s scream to fill the air. He clenched his jaw tightly as he heard her screams of agony. He had the gut feeling Ghostface was going to mori everyone again. Maybe it was meant to be symbolic, like even when there’s nothing but pain, there’s still a shred of hope, but Dwight knew it was just a sadistic choice to get the show on the road. 

He gnawed at his fingers as another scream howled out. From the sound of it, it was likely to be Jane. It only took seconds for her screams to silence. Several silent minutes passed. By now the tip of Dwight’s pointer finger was freezing due to his incessant biting, but he didn’t care. He just closed his eyes and let out a whimper when Bills shout of pain rang out. Bills death sounded like the longest one and as his voice finally fell silent, Dwight had to fight back a tear. He was a terrible leader, teammate and friend. Just horrible, awful and cowardly. He didn’t deserve his glasses back, not anymore. More cold puffs of air left his lips, as he awaited the killers inevitable return. It felt like years before Ghostface returned, peeking around a wall at the generator. Dwight wouldn’t have noticed him, if not for the feeling of being watched. 

“Miss me?” The killer joked, stepping right in front of the sitting survivor. Dwight looked up to his fuzzy frame, a pout heavy on his lip. He could smell the hard smell of iron on the leather of Ghostface’s suit, and despite his blindness and the dark, he knew blood covered his clothes. 

“Can I please have my glasses back?”

“Gettin’ real good at beggin’. Been practicin’ or somethin’?” The killer took a knee in front of Dwight. Dwight let out a whine, though it was hard to tell if it was out of embarrassment, frustration, fear or anything else. Probably a mix of everything, Ghostface figured. 

“Ghostface please, I need them back. I cant take it anymore.”

“God damn,” Ghostface breathed. “You’re a needy bitch, huh?” 

The killer had no bite to his words. In fact, they were more affectionate than anything. Dwight would’ve preferred them to come out as an insult. He let Ghostface rub a gloved hand over his cheek, before the killer continued to speak. “You really want them back?”

“Yes.”

Dwight yelped as he was lifted from the dirt and slung over Ghostface’s shoulder like a rag-doll. A hand was placed on his ass as he was taken away from the generator, and the survivor didn’t bother to struggle. Of course the killer wasn’t just going to hand the glasses over to him. That would be too damn easy on Dwight. The survivor asked where they were going, but was met with silence. He peered behind him, and saw that they were approaching the cottage. A pit of worry pooled in Dwight, but he swallowed it down. The killer stepped inside and looked around before plopping the survivor onto a couch. Dwight let out a small grunt as he was dropped onto the fabric. It was actually rather comfortable, more comfortable than the forest floor, that’s for sure. He watched as the killer darted his head around, before walking up to an open doorway. All the doors of the building were off, but as Ghostface lifted the broken door to it’s frame, the Entity plunged into the wood and forced it back into place. Too bad Dwight couldn’t see the horror of it. The killer repeated this process to all the doors. The Entity sealed the windows as well, but the whole cottage remained chilly. 

“Fuck it’s cold,” Ghostface hissed. Dwight didn’t voice his agreement, but he stood by the killers words. He was only dressed in a pair of black slacks and a stained button up. The killer actually had thick clothes on, and Dwight couldn’t help but be a little jealous over the heat the killer must have. He watched as the blurry body of Ghostface dropped firewood into the pit. He adjusted the wood until it fit his liking, then took a rock that was knocked in from outside into his hand. He pulled out his knife and struck it against the rock until it sparked.

“What’s this got to do with my glasses,” Dwight finally asked. 

“Everything babe,” the killer laughed, seemingly not taking his eyes from his task. 

“I’ve got a name you know.”

“I know that. It’s like… David or something, right?”

“No,” Dwight said. He knew Ghostface was thinking of David King, and if the situation was different, Dwight would be extremely flattered to be confused for David. “It’s Dwight.”

“Ah, right. I knew that,” Ghostface muttered as a flame began to take. “Knew it started with a D.”

A break of silence occurred between them as the fire started to slowly build. There was an old box of newspapers that Ghostface only now noticed, and grabbed several of them and began to rip them up. He tucked the torn papers into the fire, and that’s when it truly began to take. The flames became noticeable, and the room began to light. 

“There we go,” the killer smirked. “But I think I like baby better for you, suits you more.”

“Alright,” Dwight shrugged. He wasn’t about to argue with him. He’s so close to getting his glasses back. He’s not about to ruin it by pissing the killer off. If Ghostface want’s to call him babe, baby or whatever, than he could be Dwight’s guest. He could even call him honey, sweetie, snookums or angel cake. Just so long as he gets those glasses back. Dwight watched the orange glow of the fire grow. Soon there was a small bit of heat rising up, and Dwight nearly wanted to throw himself into the flames. He’s been cold for so long. Ever since he arrived in the Entities purgatory, he’s been cold. Whether it be physically or emotionally. 

“It should heat up in here now.”

“So,” Dwight started, looking away from the fire. “When do I get my glasses back?”

“When you’ve earned them.”

“Earned them? I already have! I’ve gone through thirteen trials without them and they belong to me! You-”

He stopped talking when Ghostface began approaching him. Dwight backed into the couch, until his back was pressed firmly into the cushions behind him. His hands gripped the cushions by his hips and reflexively squeezed. The killer placed his knee between Dwight’s and leaned over him. A familiar strong grip was placed over the survivors jaw as the killer looked down at him. Maybe Dwight got too cocky, because Ghostface is a killer. He’s got all the power. 

“You’ve gotten really ballsy with me huh? Maybe I haven’t shown you what I could really do to you,” the killer breathed. Dwight noticed Ghostface’s free hand lingering by the handle of his knife. He swallowed his pride down and tried to play it cool, despite the fear present on his face. 

“Please, I just want my glasses back.”

“And I said I’ll give them back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Dwight admitted. 

“You just got to earn em’.”

“Okay… how do I do that?”

Ghostface’s heart was racing, and he couldn’t hold his grin back at Dwight’s words. He could feel the thumping of his heart against his chest, the excitement in his stomach twisting, that familiar light feeling in his hands. He wanted to do so much. He wondered how much could Dwight take. He grabbed a fistful of the survivors hair and yanked his head back, exposing the entirety of his throat. The killer leaned over him more, mask inches from Dwight’s face. He was in love with the yelp his prey let out. 

“Boy you do so much to me.” Ghostface spoke, his eager voice made Dwight shiver. “Got me feeling crazy. Ever since I last saw you, you’ve been in my head.”

“Sorry.”

“I wanna finger you. Right here.”

“What,” Dwight gasped, eyes drawing wide. His hands raised, but they made contact with nothing. He just held them up to his chest, as if he was surrendering, or getting ready to push the killer away from him. Ghostface shifted, putting his other knee on the couch. He let go of Dwight and pulled his shoulders back, making his back crack. 

“You heard what I said.”

“I… I don’t understand. Why- why do you want to...”

“You’re fuckin’ cute babe,” the killer told him, hands now placed on Dwights shoulders. “You’ve been drivin’ me crazy. I wanna make you scream for me.”

“Uhh,” Dwight started, but no words came out. He could hardly believe his ears. Ghostface was truly fucked up. Is this his idea of fun? Torture a survivor for the equivalent of thirteen trials? Fifteen if you count this one and the one where he stole his glasses. Then after tormenting him to sexually harass him? What a fucking creep. He turned his face away from the killer, heart pounding and all the blood in his body rushing to his cheeks. Was he supposed to say yes? Did Ghostface even care if he consented or not? Most likely not. He shivered as Ghostface gripped his tie. Despite the room heating up from the fire, his blood was running cold. 

“If you let me, I’ll give you your glasses back. Maybe even throw in a special limited addition offer.”

“This feels like blackmail.”

“Kinda is,” Ghostface smirked, pulling Dwight closer by his tie. “But whatta say? I fingerfuck you, then give you your oh so precious glasses back. Maybe even guarantee your safety in future trials?”

“My safety? Like, sparing me?” 

“Sure, why not. I’m a generous man,” the killer laughed. It seemed like even he found his statement more funny than true. He gripped the survivors chin with his thumb and index finger and tilted his face up. “But hey, what would you want?”

“I actually have a choice?” 

“Sure.”

“If… If I let you do this to me…,” Dwight started. His eyes were locked onto the blurry black sockets of Ghostface’s mask. He could sense his stare through the darkness, and it only made him feel more unnerved. 

“Uh-huh?”

“I get my glasses back.”

“Yeah,” Ghostface nodded. “We established that.”

“And I get to survive… how many trials?”

“Depends on how much you impress me.”

Dwight gulped. The killer began to loosen Dwight’s tie, and he tried to keep his breathing from hitching. His tie came undone by the killers actions, and soon he slipped it free from the survivors dress shirt collar. It was hard to sit still when every cell in his body was screaming ‘no’. He wanted to disappear into the couch, but it wasn’t physically possible. Instead he locked his eyes to a distant cloudy shape, trying to ignore the powerful gaze on him and the way the killer unbuttoned the first button on his shirt by his neck. 

Their conversation had apparently ended, because no more words were exchanged between them as Ghostface swiftly unbuttoned the entirety of his shirt, exposing his pale white skin underneath. He opened the shirt wide, making Dwight shiver at the exposure. He kept his face turned from the killer as Ghostface gave his peck a squeeze. His gloves were cold and tough, typical of leather. He tried not to notice the way Ghostface rolled his thumb over his nipple, or the satisfied breath he’d give at Dwight’s uncomfortable expression. All of the sudden Ghostface pushed him down, his head slamming against the cushiony armrest. The killer crawled over Dwight, towering above him. 

“You look so fuckin’ nice like this. But you’d look better in my bed.”

Dwight didn’t respond to the killers comment, and he submissively let him remove his shirt. Ghostface tossed the white cloth over the edge of the couch along with Dwight’s neck tie. Just the visual of it alone felt lewd to Dwight. Clothes draped over a couches back with a fireplace illuminating his bare skin, a cold snowy night outside. In all technicality, the setting would be quite romantic, if not for a serial killer on top of him. Can’t forget that detail. Ghostface spared no time and reached for the survivors belt. Dwight kept his face away as his belt came undone, followed by his pant button and zipper. Ghostface practically growled at the sight of Dwight. His prey was so vulnerable. His entire torso exposed and the navy blue boxer briefs peeking out from his black dress pants were intoxicating. If Ghostface wanted to, he could cut into him, slice him to pieces, strangle him, bite him or beat him, but his pray lay defeated and submissive. 

“Fuck,” Ghostface breathed. Without warning, he began to paw at Dwight's groin, gaining a yelp from the blind man. Through the leather glove, Ghostface started to massage Dwight’s dick from under his underwear. His face was alarmed, cheeks flushing and eyes wide. Despite the survivor still being flaccid, Ghostface knew it wouldn’t last for long. “Common babe, get hard.”

“I thought you said you just wa-wanna finger me,” Dwight hissed, keeping his fists clenched. All of his self control was working at keeping himself soft. He was not about to get a hard on for this psychopath. 

“That’s not the only thing I wanna do to you,” Ghostface purred, his hand cupping the entirety of Dwight’s groin before going back to massages and rubs. Dwight’s chest went up and down, his breathing becoming irregular and his brows starting to knot. The softness in Ghostface’s hands began to stiffen, and after a few more seconds of rubbing and squeezing, Dwight’s dick stood at full attention in his underwear. The killer didn’t fail to comment “There we go.”

“Fuck off,” Dwight spat. The killer laughed and yanked Dwight’s pants and boxers down with one swift pull, exposing his cock to the now warming air that still chilled him. Ghostface playfully rubbed his thumb over Dwight’s slit and smeared the small bead of precum around his head. Dwight shifted and gripped the armrest under his head. He bent his legs, as if that would defend himself, but it only allowed his legs to part further. Ghostface spared no second to wiggle between his thighs and grip one of them with his free hand. 

“I like that. Keep going.”

“Huh?”

“Cuss me out,” the killer urged. Dwight felt a pit form in his stomach as his legs shifted again. Ghostface got off to nearly everything it seemed. What a sicko. Dwight couldn’t help the whine that left his lips as Ghostface gave his cock a tight, slow pump. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” 

“Fuck~” Ghostface gasped. “Keep goin’.”

“You’re a self centered douchebag,” Dwight obeyed. He found it weird that Ghostface wanted to be cussed out. He wasn’t sure if it was a degradation kink sort of thing, or if Ghostface found it funny, but being able to rant about how much he despised the man above him urged Dwight on. Not to mention the speed the killer gained at the insult. “Fuckin’ annoying, dick. You’re fucking crazy, you psy-psycho.”

“God,” Ghostface groaned. The hand on Dwight’s cock vanished, and the survivor opened his eyes to look at his attacker. When had he closed them? Ghostface grabbed Dwight’s pants and underwear and pulled them off. Now he wore nothing but his socks, shoes, watch and bracelet. The killer let out another sound, similar to a groan and a purr. The more Dwight encountered him, the more he felt like Ghostface was more animal than human. Dwight's thighs were suddenly hiked up and over the killers shoulders. The survivor nearly forgot the point of all this, but this position reminded him that he was about to have a virgin part of him touched. 

He watched with worry as Ghostface pulled a small bottle out of one of his pockets and popped the cap open. He squirted clear liquid onto his gloved fingers and Dwight could only figure out what it was by the situation. It was lube. At least Ghostface was merciful enough to not go in dry. His fingers that is. Ghostface smeared the lube around and once he deemed it enough, he brought his hand to his most vulnerable bits. Dwight’s heart was pounding. A cold, wet finger dragged on the center of his balls before trailing down to his taint before finally meeting with his asshole. As much as he despised to admit it, it felt nice. It’s been so long since he’s been touched, or hell, since he’s jerked off. 

“You know,” Ghostface started. “I’ve been told I’ve got really good aim.”

“Huh?” Dwight breathed, unsure of what Ghostface was getting at. 

“Lets see how long it takes me to find your sweet spot.”

With that, an invasive finger began to push inside him. It was thicker than it should be, that with the gloves and all, and being that Dwight’s ass was a complete virgin. It’s perfectly fine to speculate on his dick, though he’d never tell. The intrusion didn’t really hurt. His pain tolerance has gone up significantly since the Entity, but it did feel wrong. Soon Ghostface’s middle finger was knuckle deep and he held it in place. Dwight shifted uncomfortably, eyes glued to the fire. He tried to dissociate from what was happening, and before he knew it he was chewing on his fingernails again. Ghostface pulled his finger nearly out, before sliding it back in. His actions were surprisingly gentle. One thrust of his fingers became two, then three and four, until Dwight lost count of the thrusts. One finger was already a lot for him, and the way Ghostface ground his finger against his insides were making him feel all sorts of ways. The pain had just subsided when something else blasted through him, causing him to gasp. 

“Huh, that didn’t take long,” Ghostface chuckled. He fixated his aim on that same spot, and soon Dwight was seeing stars. He tried to fight the urge to arch his back, but it was too much. Pleasure was now shooting through him with each bend of the killers finger. Suddenly Ghostface added another finger, and soon Dwight’s body felt hotter than the fire. He kept his lips tightly sealed, refusing to let his voice be heard. He internally cursed Ghostface. Without his glasses everything felt so much more powerful. He couldn’t focus on random details around the room because he couldn’t see them. He was just left with the feeling of his prostate getting thrusted into over and over again. 

“Ah~” Dwight finally gasped. The killers heart was pounding along side the survivors. His eyes explored Dwight. One hand kept Dwight’s leg firmly in place, if not held a little too lightly. The fingers curled and twisted, somehow getting deeper inside of him and Dwight soon covered his face with his arms, biting onto a random bit of flesh to keep his voice back. He couldn’t believe himself. He was melting under a murders touch. He’s fingering him with the same gloves on that he used to kill his friends, and Dwight can’t even keep a coherent thought. His body ached for this. He didn’t even realize his cock was leaking until he felt a puddle form on his lower abdomen. 

“Oh baby, you look so good like this. Fuckin’ pretty on my fingers. Bet you’ve been wanting this huh?” 

Dwight has gotten pretty good at telling when Ghostface was babbling to himself, so he didn’t bother trying to find words to respond. A third finger was added slammed against that sweet spot inside of him and Dwight pulled his legs tight, forcing the killer against him as his toes curled in his shoes. He was getting so close to cumming. He normally lasted much longer than this, but it’s only felt like five seconds and he’s already feeling his stomach filling. Ghostface growled at Dwight's reaction, choosing to thrust into him harder. Now the survivor couldn’t hold his voice back. He arched his back, head dipping over the armrest and let out a moan from deep within him. 

“Fucking Christ,” Ghostface panted. “Jed.”

“Wha?” Dwight rolled his head to look at the killer. He felt his world crash when he saw the killer remove his mask in front of him. Though the details were a blur, he could see the distinct dark eyes, dirty blonde hair and brown scruff covering his jaw and chin. The killer chucked the mask across the room and licked Dwight's peck. 

“Jed, say Jed.”

“Jed?”

“Fuck,” Ghostface groaned. “Again.”

“Jed?”

“Oh my God.”

Ghostface couldn’t control himself anymore. He leaned back, letting Dwight’s legs fall from his shoulders and opening wide. He gripped his thigh hard and began to lick and bite along Dwight’s skin, all the while hitting his spot over and over. He locked his lips onto his preys throat and began to suck hard onto his flesh. He needed marks to cover his skin. He needed his prey to be covered in his bruises and teeth marks. His obsession was too much, and just judgment was clouded. By this point Dwight was practically crying in pleasure, his body like jelly. Why did this feel so damn good? Ghostface’s fingers felt better than Dwight's hand ever did. Hickey after hickey, bite after bite, Ghostface marked him, but the absence of Dwight repeating that word burned him. 

“Keep saying my name,” he demanded. 

“You’re names Jed?”

“Yeah, now scream it for me baby.”

A wave of pleasure crashed into Dwight. Why did being called baby feel so right all of the sudden? God, he’d do anything to keep Ghostface or Jed doing what he’s doing. He chanted his name over and over until the name Jed lost all it’s meaning, and soon Dwight was about to cry out in an orgasm, but Jed’s fingers withdrew. Dwight let out a mewl at the sensation. He eyed the killer, only to have lips crash against his own and a tongue down his throat. Dwight’s hand shot down to jerk himself off, but Ghostface pulled his arms up over his head as his tongue dragged along his lip. Dwight didn’t have to kiss back, but he did. He allowed Ghostface to pin him down onto the couch and eagerly kissed him back. Sweat was starting to pool around Dwight as his body temperature was now burning like the fire in the room. 

“Why’d ou stop?” Dwight slurred between kisses. He could now see the details of Jed’s face up close. Deep eyes, either blue or green, Dwight couldn’t quite tell, some acne scars here and there from teen hood and a small scar on his forehead. Ghostface’s stubble felt nice scratching against his skin. When the fuck did Dwight get so horny? He was pleasure drunk and ready to drink in more. 

“I didn’t say you were allowed to cum yet.”

“When can I?” Dwight whined. He could now finally see Jed’s mischievous smirk. It was full of desire and power. Jed gave him yet another hickey, this one on his collar bone. Dwight was certain he’d leave this trial with more than ten hickeys. He could feel his orgasm slowly but surely washing away, and before he knew it the need to cum was gone, though he still wanted it. He ground his hips up, slightly into the killer, who bit his shoulder with mildly painful force. Dwight whimpered as the killers bite indented his skin, but didn’t break it. Ghostface tightly grabbed the survivors hips in hand thrusted between his legs. Like the trial so long ago, Dwight could feel the killers hardness pressing into him. Jed ground his hips into the survivor. 

“You wanna cum baby?” Ghostface panted as he continued to grind into Dwight. He smothered his chest with kisses and bites and Dwight was losing his mind. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to orgasm so bad. 

“Yeah,” he finally admitted. Jed grabbed Dwight’s hair and gave him a quick smooch before swiftly landing on his own back and pulling Dwight on top him. 

“Then suck me off bitch.”

Dwight flushed, mouth suddenly dry and anxiety creeping back in. He’s never blew someone before, and a killer for Christ sake? Dwight would have to be out of his mind to even consider it. Ghostface would have to force him before he’d even look at his groin, so why was his hands reaching for the killers leather pants? He unbuttoned them and quickly noticed the bulge in Ghostface’s black briefs. Funny, he imagined Ghostface being more of a boxer type of guy. Little to Dwight’s knowledge, Jed wore briefs because he liked the way they look in his pants better. Dwight pulled the killers cock free from his underwear, and watched as it sprung up like a jack-in-a-box. Dwight’s heart was pounding as he shifted side to side on his knees. He bit his knuckle and eyed the killer. 

“Do it baby,~” Jed purred with near affection in his voice. He pet Dwight’s hair and cheek as he urged him lower. “Blow me babe.”

Dwight looked down again at the blurry penis in front of him. Precum was already dripping down his shaft, and it reminded Dwight of his own forgotten member. God he wanted to touch himself so bad. He was so close to cumming before. Maybe if he got Jed to cum, he’d be able to have the best orgasm of his life. Dwight shyly grabbed Jed’s cock with his thin fingers, and the killer let out a pleased groan. He continued to pet Dwight, and the survivor didn’t have to look up to know the killer was watching him. 

Dwight brought his lips closer to the head, and timidly pressed them against it, as if to kiss it. The sigh that left the killers lips was surprisingly arousing, and made a wave of excitement lick up Dwight’s spine. His tongue snaked out and gently licked Jed’s slit, and the killer gripped Dwight’s hair. As much as Ghostface was in control, Dwight felt like he was gaining some power over the killer. Maybe his oral fixation would finally come in handy? He parted his lips and wrapped them around Ghostfaces head and began to suck him down. Jed growled and tipped his head back for a moment, basking in the feeling. He watched with a gloved knuckle to his lips as Dwight began to slowly bob his head up and down his shaft. He only went down about two inches, probably too timid to go further, but Ghostface enjoyed it nonetheless. 

“Oh fuck baby,” he breathed, now using the hand that’s in Dwight’s hair to guide his prey up and down him. “Fuck~.”

Dwight began to pick up speed, both by Ghostface’s actions and his own, and soon he was taking his cock deeper into his mouth. He was about halfway down now. His gag reflex was beginning to get irritated, but Jed’s groans and moans were forcing him to ignore it. A thought was glued into Dwight’s head, and he had to see if he could. He pulled his mouth off the killer, and noticed Jed’s immediate eyes watching him. Dwight spit into his hand and began to pump the killer up and down in a fast motion. Once he pumped him enough, he let his mouth accompany his hand, and Jed gave a low groan. Now with Dwight’s mouth and hand on him, he got the full coverage he seeked, and couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his hips up into the hot tunnel Dwight formed. 

“Oh God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ good,” Ghostface panted. “So fuckin’ good, shoulda done this a long time ago. You look so pretty like this, it feels so fuckin’ good.”

This time Dwight didn’t tune out his words. He let them fill his ears and push him past his limits. He drug his tongue along the underside of his dick, earning a moan from Jed as he swirled his tongue around his cock head. All the while he continued to pump him with swift jerks. 

“Baby, baby,” Jed chanted before pulling Dwight off him by the hair. Dwight popped off and looked at the killer confused. Ghostface pulled his pants down to his mid thigh and gestured to one side of his left thigh. “Bite me.”

Dwight did as he was told and sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of Jed’s leg. He gently bit down and Ghostface pushed Dwight harder onto his leg. 

“Harder.”

Dwight bit down with more force and didn’t miss the way Ghostface gasped. 

“Harder.”

He applied more strength to the bite and bit him harder than he would’ve ever personally chose to bite him. Jed let out a moan and pulled at Dwight’s hair. It was mildly painful, but no doubt less painful than the chomp Dwight gave him. The marks of his teeth are sure to decorate his skin. Jed pet the survivor before pulling him off. Before Dwight could get a word in, Ghostface pushed him back into their original position and the bottle of lube was open again. As shameful as he is to admit it, Dwight was excited to see Ghostface slather his fingers in the clear substance again. Without warning, he plunged two fingers in his prey. It burned slightly, but Dwight adjusted quickly. He wrapped his arms around Jed’s shoulders and brought his knees up. 

“I wanna fuck you,” Ghostface breathed as he kissed Dwight’s nipple. “Want me to rock your world baby? I can make you see stars.”

“Fuck,” Dwight croaked. “Y-yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Then gimme your wrists.”

Dwight did as he was told and put his wrists together, slightly confused as to what the purpose of this was. When Ghostface removed his hand from him and grabbed his tie from the back of the couch and began to wrap it around his wrists though, he understood what it meant perfectly clear. He let Jed tie his wrists together, and with a gentle hand, he pushed his arms above his head. Jed smirked down at him, eyes full of danger. 

“I wanna hear you scream my name, you remember it right?”

“Jed.” Dwight said, his cock throbbing. 

“Perfect baby,” the killer dipped down by Dwight’s ear and gave it a kiss. He whispered, “I’m gonna fuck you, and each time I hit that sweet spot I wanna hear you say it.”

“Okay,” he shivered. 

With that, the killer spread Dwight’s legs and let the survivor wrap them around his hips. He squirted a little more lube onto his hand and pumped his dick a few times before angling it against Dwight’s entrance. Dwight never would’ve expected this trial would end with him losing his anal virginity, but hey, that’s life for you. Always surprising your ass when you least expect it. Ghostface slowly pushed inside, and Dwight let out a squeak. That hurt. Not a lot, thanks to the lube and preparation, but it burned. He stifled his whimpers as Ghostface’s dick pierced him like the blade he carries. Once the killer was fully seated inside him, he gently bit Dwight’s chest. There were a few motionless seconds where neither man spoke, but as expected, Jed was the one to speak. 

“Fuck baby, you’re tight.”

Dwight would be perfectly fine without the commentary but he doesn’t think he’ll get that peace. Ghostface’s hand pinned the survivors tied wrists as he slowly pulled out, a feeling alien to the nerd. Once only Jed’s head was in, he pushed back inside in a slow thrust, forcing a groan from the smaller man. He continued his thrusts like that for a while, slow and unaimed. He let Dwight get used to his size before snapping his hips with more force than before. He snapped his hips into him over and over, and soon that bundle of nerves inside Dwight were pushed with the perfect force, and Dwight couldn’t help the moan that left his lips. Jed thrusted there again, testing if the location was right, and when he received the same reaction, he locked his aim onto that spot.

“Say my name.”

“Jed.”

“Again,” Ghostface demanded with a well placed thrust. Dwight keened at the feeling, and he called out his name once again, “Jed.”

“Again.”

“Jed!”

“Again!”

“Jed! Jed! Oh my ga-God, Jed!” Dwight moaned out, staying true to his word. He wrapped his tied arms around Ghostfaces neck and pulled him in. For an embrace or kiss, Dwight wasn’t sure. Truth be told it was probably just to keep himself from being fucked off the couch. The room got loud from the fire cracking and their hips smaking against each other and the animalistic sounds coming from both men. The heat between them was burning, as with the pleasure. Dwight’s body was fluttering in ecstasy, each thrust hit that spot with slightly more force than the last, and Dwight continued to scream Ghostface’s name. He needed Jed to keep going. It felt so good, despite beings so wrong. In this moment though, Dwight didn’t care. All he cared about was the pleasure that was crashing into him as he was fucked senseless on an old cottage couch. 

“Oh fuck,” Dwight whined. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“That’s right baby, you like that?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s right! Yeah? You love my cock huh? You. Love. It,” he slammed his hips into him with each word. Dwight’s toes were curled in his shoes and he could only muster a nod and whine. 

“Say it!”

“I love it.”

“Yeah you do, bitch.”

Soon Dwight’s need to cum was almost unbearable. He’s been leaking like a faucet this whole time and now his body was begging for release. It’s unlikely to him that Ghostface will let him. He whimpered as Ghostface’s lips bruised him more, neck, chest, shoulders, thighs, you name it. He was covered in Jed’s love marks and as much as he’ll regret it later, it only made the pleasure in his groin build. He’d blame it on his clouded judgment, but he recalled Ghostface enjoying begging. Against his pride, Dwight gave in. 

“Please let me cum.”

“You wanna cum?”

“Yeah,” he panted. Jed smirked and drew in his lower lip to bite it. The thin flesh turned white under his teeth. He pounded into Dwight like there was no tomorrow, ensuring the survivor would have to leave with a limp. Ghostface was so turned on, like a teenager after a good day at school.

“Who do you want to make you cum?”

“You! Jed!”

“Now what do you want me to do?” Ghostface teased. He’s going to make Dwight say it. His stomach fluttered when Dwight didn’t hesitate. 

“I want you to make me cum Jed, please!”

A flick was switched in the killer, and for once he shut up. He slammed Dwight’s tied hands back above his head and hammered his hips into Dwight. He was thundering down on him, giving him all he’s got, and Dwight could only scream in ecstasy, but it got so much better when Ghostface wrapped his hand around Dwight’s forgotten shaft and finally started pumping him. Almost immediately Dwight’s orgasm crashed over him. He shouted out a lovely sound as he peaked, spilling his cum onto his stomach and only minutes later Jed reached his own end. He chomped down onto Dwight’s shoulder painfully, as he rode out his own orgasm. Ghostface’s movements didn’t stop or slow. He continued his rhythmic pace until Dwight’s body grew far to sensitive to take it anymore. It was only then when the killer began to ease into a stop, body tired and sweaty. He collapsed onto Dwight, still inside of him as he panted, finally catching his breath. 

“Fuckin’ awesome,” Jed laughed between pants. Dwight couldn’t even respond. He had the soul fucked out of him and his body was still convulsing from one of the best orgasms of his life. He brought his arms up and rested his hands on Jeds head, feeling his greasy locks in his palms. Dwight, with more authority than ever, pulled Ghostface’s hair to make him look at the survivor. Ghostface’s head lolled up to face him, and he gave his obsession a smile. Jed’s eyes were half lidded in post coital contentedness. Their noses were nearly touching, and Dwight could finally see the blue of the killers eyes, which had little blobs of green inside. They stared into each others eyes, an odd intimacy between the two. Jed playfully nipped Dwight’s arm and the nerd let go of his hair. Jed shifted slightly, arm reaching down somewhere out of the survivors vision. When his hand came back into view, Dwight recognized the glasses in his fingers immediately. 

“I think you’ve earned these babe.”

Ghostface slid the glasses onto Dwight’s face, and for the first time in only God knows how long, he was able to see clearly. The start of a headache was yet to form from the vision change, but he was more than happy to have them back. There were fingerprints and questionable smudges on them, but they were back and that’s all that mattered to Dwight. Ghostface wormed out of Dwight’s arms, effectively pulling out as well. He tucked himself back into his underwear and pants, eyes locked onto Dwight’s most personal parts. A grin flashed on the killers face that didn’t look to be in the survivors favor. Just as Dwight was about to ask, Ghostface gripped his thighs behind his knees and spread his legs wide. Dwight yelped and watched with sudden fear. What was the killer doing? Before long he could feel wetness dripping free from his body, and he realized Jed was watching his own cum drip out of the survivor. Dwight’s face flushed a color he didn’t know he could darken to, as he covered his face with his tied arms and barked out a “stop!”

“That’s real nice,” Ghostface purred. He let go of one of Dwight’s legs and pinned it open with one of his own. A shutter sound stopped Dwight’s breathing. He snapped his arms up and locked his eyes onto the killer, but was mortified when he saw the camera staring back at him. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What babe? I gotta be able to look back to this moment somehow.”

“You can look back on it in your memories like a normal person!” Dwight squealed as he covered his face. Jed belly laughed and snapped another picture. 

“You should know I am not a normal person babe, besides, I was gonna take more but I forgot.”

“You fucking creep,” Dwight whined. Jed snickered and put the camera away and untied Dwight’s arms. Dwight spared no second to cover his vulnerable bits, but then realized the camera was gone and finally breathed. Ghostface got up from the couch and stretched, his back audibly cracking. Dwight reached for his pants, that still contained his underwear and awkwardly slipped his feet inside. It was difficult with his shoes still on, but soon he wiggled inside them and stood up, hips aching. He could feel the wetness still on him, but he did his best to ignore it. He zipped his fly and grabbed his shirt, ignoring his pant button for now. He practically slapped his cum off his stomach, trying not to get it on his pants. Thankfully, it disrespectfully hit the floor. He looked over to Ghostface, who was putting his mask on. Dwight slipped his shirt on and began the process of buttoning all of his clothes. 

“We should do this again sometime,” Jed smiled, though it was hidden behind the mask. However, his smile could be heard in his voice. Dwight shook his head as he put his tie around his neck.

“Don’t count on it,” he passively said as he did his tie. He didn’t even hear Ghostface approach him until he was pushed into a nearby wall. His breathing hitched as he made eye contact with the ghostly eyes of his mask. Jed put one hand by Dwight’s head, walling him. The other hand he raised, as if he was about to wave to the man, but then slowly, methodically lowered it until it met with Dwight’s groin. He pawed him gently, earning a soft groan from Dwight. 

“Why? Don’t wanna get hooked on me?”

“That's… I didn’t-”

“I know you loved it. You can admit it or not but I know you’ll be thinking about it,” Ghostface cooed. He bent the arm by Dwight’s head, bringing himself closer to him. He massaged Dwight through his pants, and Dwight wasn’t sure if it felt good or not due to that regions still present sensitivity. “When you’re alone, touching yourself, I know you’ll be thinking about me, wishing I’ll fuck you again. You’ll miss it, miss my touch.”

“I...” Dwight started, cheeks pink. Ghostface truly had all the power between them. Jed let go of his groin and cupped his face in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together as he pet his face and hair. 

“When you want me, all you gotta do is ask and I’ll be more than happy to help you out baby. But now you should be getting back huh?”

“Uh… y-yeah,” Dwight turned his face away. “Are… are you still gonna spare me for a while?”

“Sure,” Ghostface shrugged with a smile. He backed away from the survivor and let him move away from the wall. “Now you should go and find the hatch, unless you wanna stick around for a round two?”

“No thanks, I don’t think my hips could handle it again,” Dwight flirted. He suddenly recoiled in shock by the tone of his voice. His eyes were wide and he covered his mouth with his hand. Jed surprisingly didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His point was proven. There was nothing he could say that would add to this moment. Dwight realized what he did, and his expression was priceless and beautiful. Without another word, Dwight began to run away in embarrassment. Jed didn’t fail to smack Dwight’s ass before he was out of reach. Dwight heard the killer laugh and say something, but his ears couldn’t digest his words. All the could do was run and find the hatch. When he did, he paused and took a breath. His hips were sore, but his body was still slightly like jelly. It was like all the muscles in his body were massaged and all his bones were popped by an expert. Besides his hips, his body was for once free of ache. He took in a breath and adjusted his tie and hair. He wondered why the hatch was open, to his knowledge not a single generator was down, but he didn’t care. 

Dwight jumped through the hatch, already trying to plan an excuse for the hickeys that marked his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you guys enjoyed that. Mid way through I was like "Jeez, Ghostface says fuck a lot". Haha. So, first sex scene in my one shots, but it certainly wont be the last. 
> 
> Also, when I wrote; "but hey, that’s life for you. Always surprising your ass when you least expect it." I was so close to adding "Amirite?" but I thought it would take everyone out of the mood so I decided against it lol. 
> 
> Also, for the warnings of this should I add the non-con warning? It technically is, despite Dwight enjoying it in the end. I want people to know what they're signing up for when reading this, so please let me know what I should do. 
> 
> One last thing before I go. I will be taking a break from writing for a while or at the very least my posts will be off and on and not so frequent. I've been busy and I won't bore you guys, but I've been feeling pretty anxious and it's taking a tole on my writing. I will be doing your requests, I'm currently working on a Jake x Claudette chapter and a Nea x Meg chapter, so stay tuned for that (if my writing will actually work). You guys can keep requesting things like pairings or prompts, but let it be known I might take half a century to get to them lol
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for reading, you're feedback always brightens my day and is extremely motivating. I appreciate you all and I hope you have a fantastic day/night.


	7. Jake x Claudette: No More Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake didn't mind living in the Entities purgatory. He didn't have to care about anyone anymore. He didn't have to think about the trauma he gave his mom or the hate he carried for his father. He didn't have to care about the other survivors.
> 
> So why did he throw himself in front of the blade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter was soooooo hard to write lol. I re-wrote it more times than I'd like to admit, and there may be a lot of grammar mistakes, so feel free to correct me if you find some. 
> 
> This chapter is my take on Jake's life before the Entity took him and his relationship with his mom, and how it affects his relationships with others. Specifically one empathetic girl ;) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Jake didn’t care about others. He never did. He didn’t care about other people and the problems they faced. He didn’t care if they liked him or not, he just couldn’t be bothered. His father always said he was the good for nothing son between he and his brother. His brother was academic, handsome, charismatic and to admiring eyes, his brother was like a flawless God. Dig a little deeper to the brother Jake knew and people would find that his brother was arrogant, cocky, self absorbed and apathetic, more so than Jake. When the two were small children, they actually were the best of friends. The two were inseparable, always laughing and smiling, playing and creating fond memories. However, as the years passed, a mean case of sibling rivalry formed between the two, and was only made worse by their fathers constant praise of one, and scolding of the other. That rivalry turned to hate as the two grew older. Jake hated all the men in his family. He loved his mother, but he couldn’t stand his father. 

His father never failed to remind Jake that he was selfish, brainless, uneducated, a worthless child, impulsive and nothing more than a thorn in his fathers side. A thorn that’s growing an infection, throbbing in pain and nothing more than a problem. As Jake’s brother started going to college, and excelling at that, Jake couldn’t be bothered to do his work at school. He’d fall asleep face first on his desk. Hiss insults at other students and backtalk teachers. Not even Jake realized he had the capability to do extremely well in school and in life, but the war zone in his head was defining. The verbal abuse he suffered at home only made him do worse at school, causing the abuse to worsen, thus, the cycle repeated over and over. After years of the comparisons and his fathers slander on his name, he finally blew up. All but his brother were home that day, and the argument took place in their grand living room. 

Jake finally spat curses in his fathers face. He fought back many times before, but this time he was truly unleashing his wrath upon the man who helped create him. The two screamed in the living room, tearing out their lungs as they tried to one up each other with appalling insults. Jake tried to ignore the guilt he felt watching his mother cry. She was in the room, sobbing as two of the most important men in her life verbally ripped into each other. She collapsed into the ground, unable to remain standing as the misery flooding her body weighed her down. His father took it as an opportunity to stab Jake with a sword of words. His words pierced him straight through the heart. “Look Jake, you're making your mother cry again.”

In that moment, Jake knew what he had to do. He fought back his own tears, shoved his father into the staircase rail and announced that he’s leaving. His dad urged him to do this, claiming it would be better for everyone. Jake ran upstairs, gathered only a backpack of items and ran back to the front door. He left, but not without giving his dad the finger before doing so, and giving his mom a brief look of apology and regret. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything. He just needed to leave. He walked to a public park and slept on a bench. In the morning he rubbed the sun from his eyes and peered around, mildly startled at the setting around him, before remembering the night before. He started to live a nomadic form of life. Each night he slept somewhere new, progressively walking further and further from his parents home. After a month, he found a plot of land owned by only God knows who, and it was perfect. 

He snuck back to his parents house and stole a nearly new camping tent his family had only used once. His father was too delicate and high brow to go camping. _‘That’s for poor people’,_ he’d say. Remaining undetected by his parents, he left with his new home on his shoulders. It took days to get back to the land plot, but when he did, he spared no time setting the tent up. When he finally finished, he stepped back and admired his new home. He had no pillows, blankets, food or water, but to him it was just a fixer upper home and it was beautiful. He eyed the woods around the tent, and let out a happy breath, the first he’s had in a long time. The next month rolled in, and at this point he had collected many things. He acquired many blankets and a single sleeping bag. He had five blankets total. Three he used as a mattress to ease the earth beneath his sleeping body. Over those blankets, he placed his sleeping bag. They’re good for retaining heat, so he slept in there, with his last two blankets draped over it. His first few days at his camp before he got the blankets were freezing. His nose would be angry red and his body would be trembling from the cold. He’d have to sleep in the fetal position to retain warmth, but with the blankets and sleeping bag, he actually sweat at night it was so toasty warm. 

He also came across pillows, three to be exact. Two were average in size, the last was a body pillow. One of the small ones he tucked in the sleeping bag, that way he could have it between his thighs when he decides to sleep on his side. Typically the preferred to sleep flat on his back, but the pillow offered a comfortable choice. The second small pillow he snuggled with at night, holding it tightly in his arms. His reason for it was because he found it more enjoyable, but others would potentially argue that he was lonely. The last large pillow, he used for his head. That way if he shifted at night, it would still be in the same place, so he wouldn’t have to sleep chase it. He didn’t just collect sleep time comforts either. He’d collected plenty of food and water bottles. There was a river in the distance behind his tent, and when he needed more water, he’d get a bucket he found, fill it up, bring it back to camp and boil the water with pots hes found. Once the water was boiled and clean of danger, he’d let it cool and then refill the empty bottles. Jake also came across many more articles of clothing and even a rubix cube to pass the time. His home was perfect. 

After three months, he heard a car rolling in. This happened before, but it was always unusual. Jake would always look to the distant road and spy on it. On this particular morning, around 6:30am, though he wasn’t aware of the exact time, the car sounded much closer than normal. He unzipped his tent and peeked a head out. A familiar black sedan rolled closer, timidly approaching. He withdrew, briefly hiding for a moment as he thought about what to do, but in the end, decided to man up and face his family member. He exited his tent and stepped forward, the car now finally stopping. He tried to stand tall, but when he saw the long black hair pulled back into a tired pony tail, and the crease between worried brows, he slumped his shoulders. He was ready to be scolded by his mom, ready for her to be mad at him, but when she darted forward and took him into her arms, he couldn’t help his shocked expression. He hadn’t seen her in three months, he didn’t even say goodbye to her when he left, but the first thing she did was hug him. He wasn’t shocked when he heard her begin to sob, and he pulled her closer, trying to comfort his mother. 

His mom thought he was hurt, or worse, when he didn’t come home. She waited by the door for days, waiting for him to come back. His father urged her to not call the police, and against her better judgment, she listened but now she found him. She found her baby, her beautiful baby boy, and he’s okay. He’s not mangled, rotting in the dirt. Though the grime on him was less than desired, he was okay. That day she wasn’t even trying to find him. In fact, she was heading to a distant city for business, but got lost along the way. It was a total accident finding him, but it was the best accident she’s ever had. She weeped happy yet sorrowful tears. Once their hug ended, she pleaded with him to come home, but deep down she knew he’d never accept. Though she was still saddened by his refusal, she was still exhilarated at the fact he was still alive and happy. His joy was more than enough for her. That day they talked for long hours, and he proudly showed her around his campsite, trying his best to show her he was doing well. Even though she’d prefer him sleeping in a comfortable bed, with oven cooked food, she couldn’t deny the fact her son was finally happy. 

After that day, she’d return to his campsite on a regular basis, bringing him any supplies she could think of, including gummy bear vitamins, or anything he’d directly ask for. She’d often take his trash with her to properly dispose of it, as well as taking old clothes or blankets that needed to be repaired. When she’d come back, they’d be good as new. Each time she’d come back, he’d be more and more excited to see her, always eager to show her something new at his camp. During one of her visits, he asked her to bring a portable DVD player so they could watch some old movies together in his tent. The next time she came down, the two watched movies while he cooked her dinner. His mother soon came around to accepting his lifestyle, because for the first time in a long time, she saw her boy finally at peace with himself. The war inside him had been fought long and hard, but now the war was over, and she too could finally feel at peace. Of course she still wanted him home, but she was just happy that he was happy. 

Each visit, his camp became more and more homey, eventually a clothesline was strung between two trees, he showered in the river, his campfire was well built and over time he had plenty of tools like a hatchet, knife, bow and a couple dozen handmade arrows. Even a fishing pole and cheap hooks. He also had many boxes that held extra supplies like flashlights, batteries, a sewing kit (courtesy of his mother) and matches. Though he hardly used the matches, instead preferring more natural methods when his fire finally burns out. His mom slowly started seeing it as a true home, and not a tent by the woods. He really did seem to have everything he needed. As time went on, she slowly stopped worrying about him as much, she still worried as any mother should, but the anxiety of his well being was eased knowing how well he was doing. Her visits continued, though occasionally varied in frequency. Sometimes she’d visit multiple times a week, others she’d only be able to visit him once during the month. Though each time she’d visit, he’d always be there, or around the area. Sometimes she had to call out for him, other times he’d be sitting on a log right next to the fire, but he was nearly always there. Years passed this way, so when he wasn’t there, she panicked. 

She didn’t panic at first. It was like any day she’d visit, but little did she know her life was about to change for the worse. She came to visit him early one morning, his fire just barely smoldering outside of his tent, which was unzipped. Carrying a box of goodies for him, she approached his tent, but found he wasn’t inside. She glanced around, eyeing the trees. _'He's just going to the bathroom',_ she figured, so she waited. A minute turned to five, and she began to call out for him. When his voice didn’t sound out after the sixth time she called his name, a pit of worry formed in her belly. She wandered his campsite, continuing to call for him until she lost count of how many times, but he never came. As an hour rolled in, she paced around his camp. Although she was worried, she was certain he was able to care for himself. She set his snacks inside his tent and wrote a note for him. Then she zipped it up and drove off, only to come back a week later for her heart to break. 

She drove up, his fire completely out and had no signs of being lit for days, though she couldn’t quite tell. His tent was zipped, and she called his name to warn him she’s here, but when he didn’t call back, her stomach dropped. She opened his tent to find the bag of goodies she left him to have been ransacked by animals and the remaining food to be covered in mold. The note she left was still folded, clearly unopened. There was a tear in his tent near the side, clearly the entry from the animals, that she only just noticed. She darted from his tent, screaming his name. She cried out for him, but little did she know, she’d never see him again. She called the police, begging and sobbing for them to find him, but only after three days of searching, they called the search off. They called him nothing more than a casualty of the woods, and was almost certainly dead. She never slept the same after that. 

In a sense, he was dead. Dead, but only for a short time before coming back and dying again. Trapped in a purgatory, her son would be beaten, cut, stabbed, bruised and battered, hung like the wet laundry he hung between trees. He’d get his head bashed in, teeth knocked out, organs torn from his belly like Christmas lights poking out from a cardboard box. Electrocuted, limbs snapped, vomit pouring from his lips and sacrificed to a malevolent demon over and over. All pain he faced would soon fade, only for it to happen all over again, again and again. If she knew her boy held in his cries as he was attacked, bleeding and scared, she’d beg to whoever would listen to take her instead. 

Jake knew his mother discovered his absence, and he tried to ignore the memories of her tears. Her face haunted him, always appearing in his minds eye, always contorted with misery upon seeing him unhappy. He hated caring. He hated it entirely, giving or receiving. His mother wouldn’t weep if he hadn’t been born. He was a curse, a demon child she was forced to birth. If he was never born, she wouldn’t cry as much. She wouldn’t care about him because he wouldn’t exist. No son should ever make his mother cry, but he was the #1 reason why she did. The one good thing that came from the Entity taking him was that he didn’t have to care anymore. He could forget her face and only care for himself. After all, his teammates only cared for themselves right? Why care for others when they didn’t care for him? So, as he did with his classmates in high school, he ignored them, only speaking when he felt like it. Even when a question lingered in the air for him to answer, he’d often ignore it, letting it be known he was not a friend. Like his father always said, he was a selfish boy. 

So why did he throw himself in front of the blade? 

Only minutes ago, it was nearing the end of a trial and he was completely unharmed. Dwight and Nea had been sacrificed, and only he and Claudette remained. He had completed three of the five generators, and the rest had done the others before two met their demise. Jake had made it to the exit and pulled the leaver to open it. The clock ticked as the door screeched open, and just as he stepped past to run into the fog, his body stopped. He snapped his head back as Claudette’s scream sounded out. He blinked, shocked in himself for stopping. She came into view, legs running as fast as she could go as blood dripped down her temple. The killer was edging closer to her, and Jake knew she’d never make it before the killer would down her. His body moved on it’s own, running past Claudette and impaling himself on the killers weapon. The killer and Claudette both paused, both equally shocked at his action. She watched with horrified eyes as his body drew limp, and he shot her a final glare that spoke the word he couldn’t, “go”. She did as his eyes asked, and fled through the fog, the only survivor to make it out alive, despite that title rightfully belonging to Jake. As his consciousness began to drift, he wondered why on Earth he did that. 

When he finally awoke at the campfire, he was surprised when he saw Claudette's face leaning over him, eyes wide with concern behind her glasses. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wordlessly sat up, never breaking eye contact. Claudette flushed, and leaned back, sitting on her haunches with her palms on her knees. She looked to the side before gulping her embarrassment down. She looked back to him, eyes still that of concern. He raised a brow. Everyone else at the campfire looked at the two confused, unsure of what exactly was happening. Claudette leaned in a little closer to Jake, and finally spoke. 

“Are you okay?”

He nodded and debated on responding vocally. After a few seconds he decided that he would this time. “Yeah.”

“Like,” Claudette started, trying to figure out how she can ask her question without offending him. “Are you _okay_ okay?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, are you feeling alright? Is something wrong?”

“No?” He asked before he got a clue as to what she was asking about. His action was too odd for him, alien in nature. It makes sense that she’d be confused with him when he’s never put his neck on the line for anyone else before, let alone killing himself for someone else. Even he didn’t understand why he did it. He didn’t care about the other survivors. He didn’t care about the stories they shared like Ace’s financial struggles, which often landed him on his sisters couch for extended months, or how Quentin would jolt awake when he slipped into dreamland, afraid of the Nightmare reaching for him from the depths of Hell. He definitely didn’t notice the way Nea would gather two sticks in her hands and begin to play them like a drum on a log as Kate played her guitar, and how David King would beat-box and rap with little skill along with them. He ignored the snort in Jane’s laugh, payed no mind to the way Bill scratched his beard while deep in thought or how Laurie's eyes dart around when the Shape is brought up in conversation. He didn’t notice it, and didn’t care at all. 

So why did they haunt him? Why did seeing Feng cry after getting moried weigh on him? Why did watching Jeff bleed in a trial make him feel wounded? Why did Dwight having a panic attack make Jake feel helpless and why did Claudette remind him of someone dear? Why did he hold himself back from what he already knew was in his heart? He shook it all from his head, shooting a glare to the girl still analyzing his face. He often carried a scowl on his face, but truth be told, that was just his resting expression. However, Claudette took his frown as a warning to leave him alone. She flushed again, and without a word stood up and walked to her favorite spot to sit at. He watched as she left, a little unsure of why it hurt to watch her go. 

The other survivors at camp didn’t say much about their little encounter. Mostly because Jake was still around, and being that he wasn’t too friendly, they figured it would be best to gossip about it when he was in a trial. As he sat at the campfire, his mind felt clouded, and he found it a little hard to keep his leg from bouncing, and his butt and thighs to stop tingling, aching to move. His heart was pounding, and the more he tried to clear his head, the harder it slammed. His face twisted into more of a scowl before he finally decided enough was enough for one night. He rose to his feet, and without a word, walked from camp. No survivor called for him, which was slightly abnormal. Claudette and Dwight are usually the ones to call for him, but neither did this time, but that was exactly what Jake wanted. He disappeared into the darkness, walking far into the forest. Well, as far as the Entity would allow. 

He settled down on the backside of a tree and slid down. As normal, he crossed his arms as he sat there, listening to the trees creak with the wind. His hair blew gently across his forehead and cheeks, lightly tickling the Asian American. He breathed a sigh, finding it a little easier to shake his mothers voice from his ears. Claudette and his mother shared the same look when he was upset. The same sad eyes and furrowed brows. The same slightly parted mouth, as they don’t know what to say. The same disappointment, Jake knew. As he drew in steady breaths, trying to remove the two women's faces from his mind, a snap in the forest got his attention. He slid perfectly hidden behind the tree, eyes scanning the dark forest. He hardly even noticed when Claudette stepped out into a small clearing, only really noticing her brightly colored shirt and pants. A part of him was angry, a part of him was amused, but he mostly wondered why she was after him? She never traveled this far by herself to go for a little midnight stroll, and judging by the way she scanned the forest, he knew she was looking for him. 

He rose to his feet and stepped out from behind the tree, revealing himself. Claudette let out a yelp, surprised he was that close. She took a stumbling step back and eyed him. He shoved his hands deep within his pockets and stared at her, waiting for an explanation, but as a few seconds drew, he realized that she might not have it in her to speak first. So, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he barked out a simple “what?”

“What?” She replied. 

“Why are you here?”

“Oh… you seemed… upset.”

“I’m always upset,” Jake said flatly. He wanted to scare her off, to make her leave him alone, to make her hate him, but at the same time, he really didn’t. For some reason, he wanted her to stay, but he couldn’t allow it without a fight. 

“You just seemed… more upset than normal.”

“So? What’s it to you?”

He realizes he’s being impolite, but just like his father said, he was the problem child after all. Claudette swallowed hard, and a little pit of victory pooled in Jake's stomach. He was winning. He’ll win and she’ll leave. 

“Why’d you save me?” She blurted with a lot more assertiveness he ever imagined coming from her after the snappy remark he gave. His eyes widened a bit before settling back down in their all too familiar glare. She oddly enough didn’t break eye contact with him. Her eyes were glued to his face and eyes. Scanning him, analyzing him, trying to find the answers to the questions she asked. He rolled his eyes again. 

“I didn’t,” he denied.

“Yes you did,” she urged on, surprised they’ve carried this conversation as long as they have. Jake always ignores everyone, so why is he continuing this conversation with her? “I saw you. You were gonna escape, but you killed yourself for me.”

“I didn’t... _Kill myself_ for you,” he huffed. His cool head was breaking, visible to both survivors. “And if I did, what does it matter?”

“Well you _did_ , and it matters because you never do that. You… you never talk to us or hang out with us, and for you to do that today… I just,” she pondered for a moment. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I don’t like knowing that you're upset and if there’s anything I can do to fix that, then I wanna help.”

“Maybe I don’t need help,” Jake offhandedly said, causing Claudette’s brows to furrow in frustration. She looked determined, and Jake started to see that she may not back down like he figured she would.

“Okay, but maybe you do.”

“You think I need help?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Well I don’t,” he huffed. 

“Why do you hate us?” Claudette blurted. There was a long break of silence where neither talked. He was more than a little put off at her words. _‘Why do you hate us,’_ that phrase repeated itself in his head over and over. He didn’t… hate the other survivors, he just didn’t… like them. Didn’t want to, but hate? He reserves that word for people like his father and brother, not… Not Claudette and the other survivors. Claudette was probably one of the most honest survivors, she speaks with her heart, and the fact that she asked if he hated them, means that she believes that to be the truth. A twinge of guilt poked him in the stomach. 

“I don’t… _hate_ you guys,” he looked away, cheeks starting to burn a little. 

“It seems like it.”

“No, I just… it’s better if I’m here,” he said, moving his hands to gesture to the right. “and you’re there.” At the ‘there’, he moved his hands to the left. “You know?”

“Not really. I just-”

“God, you’re like my mom,” he exclaimed in frustration. He dipped his head back and looked to the sky, drawing in a sharp breath of cold air. Claudette was looking at him like he just grew an arm out of his forehead. 

“Is… is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. You’re just as persistent as her, never stop checking up on me, always trying to talk things out, always thinkin' I can’t manage life on my own.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” She insisted, feeling anxious that she brushed the wrong nerves with him. “And it sounds like your mom loved you a lot.”

“Never got her anywhere.”

“Why do you say that?” Claudette tipped her head to the side, looking at him with confused eyes. This time she was maintaining eye contact, because he had his glued away from her, eyes narrow and brows sitting low on his face with his mouth zipped in a tight line. His expression was foreign. His eyebrows looked angry, but his eyes looked far from that emotion. 

“All I ever did was make her cry.”

“Oh Jake,” she breathed. She didn’t know what to say now. She’s not good with confrontation and other people's emotions. She pretends like she is, but before the fog she couldn’t bring herself to order food on her own, thinking she’d bother the cashier, as if her presence would make them burn her with hate. That’s why she always resorted to texting and online chats. It was easier to plan out what she wanted to say without her pesky voice and expression getting in the way. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how to progress their longest conversation in a way that won’t turn for the worst. 

“Listen,” she started with. “I’m sorry to pry, but… _Okay_ , whatever happened in your past happened. As much as it hurts to remember, _trust me I know_ , you have to just push it back for now, because at the moment none of it matters. Whether any of us like it or not, we’re stuck here together, and we have to get along and work as a team. I know you’re not about that, but at least… at least talk to me so I know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“God, you really are like my mom,” he chuckled, the first she’s heard it in quite a while. Silence forced its way between them again. Jake waited for her to respond, not knowing she thought he had more to add. A few more quiet seconds passed before she noticed something on his face. A curved shimmering line marked his cheek. It lit up in the moonlight, and she squinted, trying to decipher what she was seeing. When a second line dripped down his other cheek, she realized with a heavy heart.

"Jake?"

"Shut up."

"Oh Jake… I'm so sorry."

"Shut up!" Jake barked out, clasping his hands over his ears. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

She listened and quieted her voice. She didn't speak as his tearful breaths huffed out in the air. She was more than a little shocked to see Jake cry. He was always emotionally distant from everyone, never cracking a smile or even saying a simple ‘hello’. To see Jake cry like this in front of her was something she would’ve never had expected in a million years. Claudette stood there awkwardly, unsure if she should leave or try and help him. She wished she could just understand him a little better. Shifting her weight side to side, she decided to speak up. 

“Jake?”

He sniffed and glared over at her, brows low and lips tightly sealed. Though he made no verbal or physical response, she had the gut feeling he was telling her to continue speaking. She took in a breath and persisted. “Jake, I care about you and-”

“Don’t you _dare_ start with that,” he warned, tone aggressive and defensive. She took a timid step back. She grabbed her wrist and rubbed it, darting her eyes around. 

“Start with what?”

“That! The _‘I care about you Jake’_ shit. I’m not in the mood for that crap.”

“I don’t really understand,” she muttered. She watched the tears gently fall from his eyes, and drip off his jaw. Though his expression was akin to hatred, his soul was weeping. _‘But why,’_ Claudette wondered. 

“Of course you don’t understand Claudette. You’d never understand,” he hissed. He waited for her to respond, but when she didn’t make a peep he continued. “Caring never gets anyone anywhere. Never got my mom anywhere, never got me anywhere. So, knock it off.”

“Jake, people don’t care about people to get places, they care because they care.” Claudette urged. She was offended when she saw him roll his eyes at her statement. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid!” He shouted, causing her to flinch back. His face contorted in anger, and he barked out more. “I’m not fucking afraid. I just don’t see the point in it. All that ever happens is someone gets hurt, and someone gets disappointed.”

Claudette looked away for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. She felt like crying, but she’d never let tears fall in front of Jake. He’s crying now, and if she cries too, he’ll probably think she’s trying to make things about herself. She finally looked back at the Asian American, and asked a very simple question. “Who hurt you?”

She never knew that three words could make a man fall apart that fast, but as Jake crumbled to the ground, hands over his heart like he was just shot, she gasped. She covered her mouth in hand as Jake sobbed. Jake pulled his hair and folded into himself. He pressed his head into the dirt as he choked out cries, clearly trying to stay as silent as possible. Claudette was frozen, too shocked by his trembling shoulders to even breathe. She approached him very carefully, scared to hurt him more. She stopped when she was right across from him, and slowly dropped to her knees. Her lips were parted and brows tight together. She watched him, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but she kept her arms down. 

“Jake?”

“Happy now?” He responded, sitting on his haunches and whipping the tears and snot from his face. 

“No,” she truthfully said. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t you. I just,” Jake started, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked off to the side, refusing to look forward and see her face. He drew in a long, shaky breath and continued. “I just thought that it could all stop here. I thought that if I was an asshole, nobody would talk to me and I wouldn’t have… have to...”

“Have to what?”

“Have to worry anyone anymore,” he muttered, another tear falling from his cheek. Claudette's heart was stabbed, but she carried on. 

“So… you made your mom worry a lot?” 

Jake nodded and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he didn’t push her hand off or give her a glare. All he did was look down at his knees and try not to let anymore tears fall. She bit her lip and thought about her next words carefully. 

“Can I ask why?”

“Because… because I never did anything right. I always messed up, could never just do what I was told. I always fought with my dad and every time my mom would cry. She tried so hard to make me happy, but all I ever did was let her down.”

“Did she say that?”

“Not to my face,” he shrugged. 

“Behind your back?”

“Probably.”

“Probably,” she parroted. “So, you don’t know?”

She expected him to bite back at that, but he said nothing. Instead he sat still and unmoving. She rubbed his shoulder, and he finally met eyes with her. His eyes were pained, more than when he was stabbed or cut. More than when he had a hatchet in his back. He was heartbroken. Claudette could see it in his eyes, his soul. His heart was tired and wounded. She wanted to patch that hole in his heart somehow, but she didn’t know how. Before she could speak, he started. 

“My dad was right. I am the good-for-nothing son.”

“What?” Her face twisted. “Jake that’s not true.”

“You don’t know me,” he shrugged. “If you knew my brother-”

“I don’t need to know your brother. Jake, you’re really important. I don’t care if your brother was Jesus himself, it doesn’t change the fact that you matter.”

“Maybe that’s what I don’t like.” Jake suggested flatly causing her face to sour. There were no malice in his words, no aggression or bite. His tone was beaten down, defeated. There were so many questions in her head. So many that will be left unanswered. She was at a loss of words. Nothing she could say would change the way Jake feels. In fact, she’s probably doing more damage than good, she figured. With nothing else to say, she did the only thing she could think to do. 

She gave Jake a hug. 

He froze, feeling her arms wrapped loosely around him. She gave him space to push her away, though he didn’t. He didn’t hug back either, but he accepted her affection. It had been so long since he’s received a hug, and her arms felt like his moms. In a weird way, her hug felt like his mom telling him that everything was going to be okay, and that _he’ll_ be okay. He sobbed, feeling tears drip thickly down his face. His mothers face filled his vision, and all he could feel was regret. Regret for worrying her, disappointing her, being a pain to her, running away, never listening and the list could go on. For some unknown reason to Jake, she still loved him regardless of what he put her through. She still showed him compassion and asked if he ate dinner after a long day despite being an adult. His mom could never be beaten down by him, no matter what he did, she always stood by her son. Her beautiful baby boy, Jake. 

Jake put his forehead on Claudette’s shoulder and tried to choke back his sobs, but he couldn't. The more he fought, the harder he cried. His tears soaked her shoulder, and Claudette couldn’t stop tears falling from her eyes as well, as she cupped the back of his head in a motherly manner. It only made him cry harder, now finally losing himself. He gripped her arms softly and shook violently as sobs wracked his entire body. Claudette tried to keep her breaths calm, to not alert to him that she was crying as well. _‘This isn’t about you’,_ she told herself. _'This isn’t about you, stop crying, it’s not about you.’_

It was unknown just how long they sat on their knees, hugging and crying on each other. It must’ve been a long time though, because Jake was able to get through an entire emotional breakdown on her now sopping wet shoulder. Twenty six years of pent up misery Jake carried on his shoulders. Twenty six years of pain he hid as best he could. He had cried many times before, but that was the first in many years he cried in someones arms. The weight of the world rolled off his shoulders and he could finally breath, despite his stuffed nose. He sniffled, trying to clear it, but it did nothing for him. Jake pulled back, wiping all of the fluids from his face. He looked like a mess, and as he was distracted by cleaning himself off, Claudette quickly did the same. She didn’t want him to know she cried too, though he could probably predict it. 

“Thanks,” he whispered, voice tired. 

“Yeah, of course. You feel better?”

“Yeah… a lot actually.”

“That’s wonderful,” she smiled, heart fluttering knowing she helped him. He looked up to her and gave her a faint smile, brows slightly lifted to show no anger. She grinned larger. He looked at her soaked shoulder and frowned. 

“Sorry about that,” he pointed to it. She glanced at her cold shoulder and shook her head.

“Don’t be, it’s alright.”

Jake didn’t say anything. He looked around, clearly thinking of something. Soon he rose to his feet, knees cracking loudly as he stood tall. He grabbed the scarf around his neck and pulled at it slightly. He looked down at the girl who was still on her knees and outstretched a hand to her. Claudette took a second to understand, but when she did she flushed slightly and took his hand in hers. He helped her stand, and she couldn’t help but tuck her arms behind her back and give him a bashful smile. He pulled at his scarf again, something clearly on his mind. 

He removed the scarf from his throat and straightened the warm fabric out. As Claudette’s lips parted to ask, she was surprised when he wrapped the fabric around her body, making special effort to wrap it around her wet shoulder. He tucked it in place, and she was mesmerized by his dark eyes. They still looked sad, but there was something missing. The intimidating look he held in them was gone. It as replaced with a tender look, one that seemed much more calm, in contrast to the wild fire that was trapped inside them normally. As she gazed into his eyes, she hardly noticed him tip his head to the side and come closer. She only noticed when she felt his firm lips brush against her cheek. She blushed a dark shade and felt her knees get weak. 

“Sorry,” he said again as he parted from his chaste peck. She softly put her fingers to her cheek and got darker. 

“It’s okay.”

“Um,” he blushed and looked to the path she came from. “We should probably get back to camp. Or at least you should.”

“You’re not coming?” 

He took a moment to reply, but said “it will be kinda weird if we show up together.”

“I did say that I was gonna go looking for you,” Claudette admitted. “I think it would be more weird if I came back without you.”

“Okay,” he shrugged, not really minding either option. They fidgeted awkwardly before deciding it was truly time to go. The two walked off into the forest together, with the intent to return to camp. No more words were exchanged between the two, but it didn’t stop their racing hearts. Claudette swore she could still feel his lips pressed gently against her cheek, and every time she thought about it, that spot on her flesh would warm, forcing her to smile. She was thankful she was walking behind Jake. She could look at him without him noticing her goofy expression. She still couldn’t believe the experience the two survivors shared. Jake was so tough. She would’ve never guessed he hid such powerful emotions behind his passive aggressive exterior. She couldn’t help but feel like she knows Jake more than anyone else, out of the other survivors and people back home. As the light of the fire came into view, she couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed. I really liked writing the relationship between Jake and his mom. It was an interesting challenge to write, but very fun. 
> 
> Please let me know if there are grammar mistakes as well, I feel like there are a lot in this. I'm 80% sure I have dyslexia, because sometimes I can't read lol. It makes it hard to edit my stories, so let me know if there's mistakes. Mistakes drive me crazy haha. 
> 
> Also, I was thinking, would you guys be interested in reading about my writing process? Like, lets say I post 10 story chapters, then after the 10th, I could make an Authors Note sharing little bits and pieces about my writing process, or how I got inspiration for certain things and whatnot. Would that be something you'd be interested in? If not I totally understand, but if so I'd be willing to share little tips that I have or anything else really. Please let me know! 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all have a fantastic day/night, and I hope you all are doing well. Thank you so much for reading and I'll be posting as soon as I can!


	8. Dwight x Ghostface: Obsessed (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight's got an addiction called "Jed".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smmuuuuuut~

Dwight couldn't believe himself. He was always a loser, a dweeb. He never considered himself to be even remotely average in looks, let alone attractive. He never got people's attention, girls or guys alike. He just simply existed in the background, often called a waste of space. So as he sits on a serial killers lap as his ass his pawed through his pants, he can't help but wonder what happened that led up to this moment. He wrapped his arms around the killer and his breath caught in this throat when he felt Ghostface's thumbs work their way into the rim of his pants. 

"Want me to finger you?" Ghostface cooed as he kissed Dwight's neck. His mask had already been discarded minutes before and the scruff of his chin scratching against Dwight’s heated flesh was intoxicating. 

"Mhmm."

Ghostface spared no second to pull the back of Dwight's pants down and give his bare ass a squeeze. The survivor shivered at the cold leather and tightened his arms around the killer. His cock was already rising to attention, and he had to bite back the shame he carried for himself. As much as he tried to ignore it, his body missed Jed's touch. They’ve fooled around many times after that trial in Ormond. Dwight got an addiction to the ghostly killer. As Ghostface guaranteed, during his solo nights he imagines Jed's hands on him instead of his own. When he rubs his own cock in the distance from the campfire, he imagines Jed’s husky voice heating his ear, repeating dirty words, making his body convulse in pleasure. The killers hands were a drug, and Dwight was a helpless addict begging for his next high. Ghostface continued to rub and squeeze Dwight's rear as he breathed his disgustingly addicting words in his ear. 

"You want it so bad huh baby?" 

"Y-yeah~" Dwight shivered, precum dripping into his underwear. He gave the killers jaw a peck. Ghostface pulled the familiar bottle of lube from one of his pockets and flicked the cap open. Dwight adjusted his glasses as he rested his chin on Jed's shoulder. Ghostface rubbed the lube over his fingers and once they were covered in enough slick he closed the cap and tossed it aside. They were in Haddonfield, inside a random house, sitting on top a random couch. Ghostface grabbed one of Dwight's butt cheeks and pulled him slightly apart. His middle finger found his entrance. He rolled lazy circles around it, causing Dwight's breathing to catch. 

Ghostface chuckled as he kept rolling his finger along Dwight's hole, making his body tremble. Dwight tried to keep his breathing in check, but a soft pant began to form in his lungs as the killer teased him. When he finally felt Ghostface’s finger push inside him, he groaned. The finger slid inside him easily, resting there for a moment before pulling out and pushing back in. A rhythmic pace was set and soon Dwight’s prostate was pushed. He whimpered at the feeling, trying his hardest to remain silent. David was still alive. Hopefully he’ll just think Dwight got moried and escape through an exit. Ghostface thrusted his finger into Dwight’s sweet spot, making pleasure shock through his body. His cock was dripping in his underwear, and all he could do was pant against Jed’s shoulder and arch into his touch. 

“Good boy baby, takin’ it real nice for me,” Ghostface purred. He ground his finger hard into Dwight’s prostate, making the survivor convulse in pleasure for a moment. Jed withdrew his finger, only to plunge in a second one along with the first. Dwight groaned, the intrusion painless and heavenly. Ghostface scissored his fingers, stretching Dwight, all the while tapping that spot with speed gaining. The killer was skilled at working him open, and Dwight was coming undone like a string. Dwight's legs parted, trying to get more of the godlike feeling as he ground his hips into the killer. He loved the feeling of being toyed with. Ghostface did have spot on aim and he left Dwight wordless and soaking his underwear. 

"Oh baby, you sound nice," Jed kissed his neck. "Love your sounds."

"Jed," Dwight whined, the need to cum rising. He's established that having his prostate played with makes his stamina dramatically lower. If his dick is the only thing being touched, he can last for a long time in Dwight's book, but that bundle of nerves only takes a few minutes of play time before he's cuming hard. He couldn't keep his whines and moans back, and soon words spilled free from him. "Oh God, it feels so good, please don't stop Jed, m' so close, it feels so good." 

"You're being so good for me baby, you wanna cum?" Jed purred as he added another finger, this one making three. Dwight threw his head back and panted hot breath in the shell of Ghostface's ear. 

"Yeah!"

Jed thrusted his fingers into his prostate with harsh force, and Dwight cried out. Tears were nearly forming in his eyes with how good he felt. He grabbed the killers face in his hands and kissed him deeply, riding on his fingers and he licked Jed's lip. When Jed's hand pulled his cock free and wrapped around it, Dwight almost screamed out. However, when the fist around his cock tightened painfully around his base, and the fingers hammered into him harder, he let out a strangled moan as he came. Wait, no. That's not right. He orgasmed, but not a drop of his seed was spilled, and he was still as hard as ever. As his orgasm washed away, leaving his body trembling, Jed let go of his cock. He eyed him, a look of mischief in his eyes. Dwight aimlessly pawed at his shoulders, trying to get air back in his lungs. 

“What’d... what’d you do t-to me?”

“Whazza matter,” he purred. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why… why didn’t I cum?”

Ghostface let out a deep chuckle and smirked, kissing the survivors cheek and started slowly rubbing his cock. Dwight groaned again. The killers hand formed a tight, hot tunnel, and the slow pace he set made each inch of him feel Jed’s touch. He shivered as the pleasure melted him, he nearly forgot about the fingers in his ass, until they started up again with a feverish pace. Dwight simply bounced on the killer, gaining more speed. 

“What, you never came dry before?”

“No?” Dwight whined and arched his back into Jed’s touch. 

“Hmph,” the killer smirked. “If you can stop your jizz from coming out, you can cum dry. Can go for multiple times after, cuz’ you’re still hard.”

“Fuck you,” Dwight purred, biting the killers lip. Jed giggled into the sexy love bite, and licked his way into the survivors mouth. Their tongues wrestled, and Jed sucked Dwight’s tongue before backing away. 

“I think I’m in love with you baby,” he thrusted his fingers into Dwight harder. Dwight cried in pleasure, nearly choking on his own saliva. Ghostface let go of his cock and grabbed the leaders hip to keep him in place. He rapidly thrusted his fingers into Dwight’s sweat spot, earning so many beautiful sounds. “Fuckin’ love your voice n’ body. You turn me on so bad. Wanna take you home, fuck you on everything I own.”

“Oh God yes,” Dwight whined. 

“Yeah, you’d like that huh? You’d like being my little bitch. You’ll be my little creampie.”

“Fuck,” Dwight croaked. “Jed, I’m close.”

“I know baby.”

As Ghostface brought his prey closer to a second orgasm, something outside the window caught his eye. He grabbed the back of Dwight’s neck and pulled him onto his throat, signaling for him to kiss him. Dwight spared no second and peppered Jed’s flesh with kisses. While Dwight was distracted, Ghostface stared out the window, trying to figure out what he was seeing. Short, dark hair was peeking from the window, and the killer could see a shoulder making juddering movements. Once he realized what he was seeing, he grinned like a maniac. He kissed Dwight’s neck, and called out to the man behind the window. 

“You just gonna jerk off back there or you wanna join?”

David’s head snapped up and looked at the killer, his shocked expression exciting Jed. Confused, Dwight turned and followed Ghostface’s gaze, and when he made eye contact with the Englishman, he froze. David had a full view of the fingers inside the leader, and he had no clue how long David was watching for. Dwight flung his arms up to cover his face, blushing down to his collar bones. Dwight was more than embarrassed. He was so mortified he could die. David was caught red handed, jerking off to a friend getting fingered by a sadistic killer. The situation was more than a little fucked up. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DAVID!” Dwight screamed out from his arms. Ghostface pulled his fingers free from Dwight and pet his hips. 

“Baby, baby. Hold on a minute.”

Dwight peeked out from his arms to look at the killer. A dangerous look was in his eyes. He continued to paw at Dwight, still making pleasure bleed into his senses. Ghostface still had full control over his body. Dwight shuttered, looking at Jed with worried, confused and aroused eyes. Jed looked up to him, and with a smile said something Dwight would’ve never expected. 

“Why not let him in on the fun too?”

David perked up, and Ghostface chuckled softly, as David clearly tucked his rock hard member into his pants. David carefully vaulted through the window, and gave a sheepish grin. Dwight looked back, eyes immediately drawn to his broad shoulders, muscular arms and the clear shape of his cock in his jeans. Dwight felt much more turned on than embarrassed now, and he turned back to Ghostface. The killer gave him a peck on the lips, and purred, “lets show him how good a boy you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know I posted a story just yesterday (if I remember correctly), and I know that my last Ghostface chapter was also smut, buuuuuut...
> 
> I just couldn't help myself! 
> 
> After writing my Ghostface Part 2 chapter, I felt kinda disappointed. I felt like the smut wasn't good enough, so I wanted to make up for it with this one ;)
> 
> I really enjoyed writing it, and it probably took me about 2 hours to write? Maybe less? I'm not too sure. I don't really keep track of how long I write for, but I know it didn't take very long. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed and I'll be posting again soon! Just not super soon ;)


	9. Jake x Michael (a little bit) Jake x Quentin: Bloodloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake got cut deep, and his time is running out. His blood is draining, and Quentin comes to help. 
> 
> Along with another Quentin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not great, but its decent. It's not super Jake x Michael, don't be expecting any smut or anything. It's kinda more of a warm up for chapters to come. Still trying to get to know the characters and how to write them, ya know? Regardless, I hope you'll enjoy :)

"Motherfu-" Jake panted as he held his shoulder. He had been running for so long, definitely ten minutes at least. One survivor was already killed by the Shape, and the remaining three were injured. Jake’s body finally began to slow, and he stumbled. He slid against a tree, trying to support his weight. His lungs burned from running for so long, all the while bleeding like a waterfall. There was a sharp ache inside the wound, pulsing and throbbing in pain. It wasn’t the worst he’s received while being here, but it certainly wasn’t the most minor. The gash was deep. Deep enough to slice all the way through his thick parka and cut through his skin like butter. Jake tried to lift his arm, but the weight of it was just too much for him. He cursed under his breath and lifted his other arm easily. He looked up and around. The treeline was fuzzy, and he tried to blink away the blur. When he opened his eyes and nothing changed, he mentally cursed again. He was bleeding out. 

Gripping his shoulder tightly, he hobbled forward. He needed to get someplace safe, somewhere with another survivor. He needs a medkit or something. He stumbled around, trying to look for faces in the dark, but his vision was struggling to take in the scenery. He finally decided to hide out behind a massive rock, one taller than him. He pressed his back to it, and nearly slid down it. He clenched his jaw and forced his legs to stand. If he sits, he wont be getting back up. He knows this. His legs protested, aching to rest, but he ignored it and unbuttoned his parka. Once all buttons were snapped open, he drug his hand up and slid the zipper down. He had to give a quick jerk at the end to ensure the zipper would come undone. A long time ago one of the teeth of his jacket got bent near the bottom, so he has to force the zipper past that little spot. Once his parka was open, he let it fall off his shoulders and onto the ground. 

The pain in his shoulder renewed, but he didn’t utter a peep. He kept his voice silent as he unconsciously leaned like a tree in the wind. A tree seems powerful and unbreakable, but even a tree can fall down if given enough wind. Jake slid the scarf off from around his neck and eyed his shoulder. The gash was deep, layers of meat sliced clean. The muscle and fat visible. Blood pooled around and dripped down his body, soaking his arm. If Jake wasn’t desensitized to gore, he probably would’ve puked on the spot, but instead he shook his scarf and slid it under his arm. He had to stop the blood flow somehow, make a tourniquet or something. With one arm he wrapped it around his shoulder, but the scarf acted like a sponge, soaking up his blood and doing nothing to stop the bleeding. Even worse it scrapped against his injury, scratching at it, causing him to wince. He couldn’t feel his fingers on his right hand, the hand of the arm that’s injured. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, he was sitting on the ground. 

He fluttered his eyes, vision blurry like looking through a magnifying glass at the wrong distance. He tried to get up, but his left arm gave out on him. That was his good arm. By this point he couldn’t even feel the right side of his body. He looked, noticing his scarf wrapped loosely around his arm like a ribbon that’s fallen out of place. He grabbed it again, pulling and trying to bring it back up, but his fingers were locking. It was then he noticed how pale his hands were, knuckles white and fingertips an angry hue between purple and blue. He was dying. He couldn’t remember who was in a trial with him anymore. He sat with his back against the rock, tanned skin paling under the moonlight. 

There was no pain anymore. He wasn’t hot or cold. He couldn’t hear or feel. Everything was still. He watched the trees sway with the wind, though they looked like blob shapes warbling with no cause. Jake’s mind began to fade away, until a shadow darkened his vision. He looked up at the shadow. Whoever it was, they were pale, so pale. Jake watched, time distorted in his dying mind. Brown hair fluffed out from the pale persons skull, and whoever it was, wore dark clothing. Soon Jake figured out who it was. 

“Quentin,” he breathed. Quentin didn’t respond, or maybe he did. Jake couldn’t tell. He could hardly hear his own voice, let alone his companions. Jake closed his eyes, tipping his head back. His body was so heavy. He was tired. He tugged his eyes open when a snap sound filled the air around him, and when he looked at the fellow survivor, he was crouched in front of him, fingers brought together in an apparent snap. 

“Quentin… I’m dying.”

Again, no response from the fellow survivor. That was odd, but Jake couldn’t care less at the moment. Something was wrong with Quentin’s face, but Jake couldn’t quite place what was wrong. His face was just as pale as normal, or so it seemed, his hair just as dark, but not as curly, but the details were lost on Jake. His jacket was zipped up, which was different. Quentin cupped Jake's chin in hand, thumb rolling over it lazily. His thumb edged closer to Jake’s lip, tracing it softly before dipping slightly into his mouth. Jake didn’t react in the slightest, too fare gone to even realize that it wasn’t Quentin standing over him. The “Quentin”, gathered a small amount of Jake’s saliva on his thumb and traced over his lip again, making it shine. He shifted closer, removing Jake’s scarf and placing his hands above and below Jake’s wound. Jake watched as Quentin traced his fingers over the cut, making pain slightly come back. Before Jake could ask his friend to heal him, Quentin got up and left. Jake would’ve shrugged if he could. Looks like he’ll die alone again. 

Jake barely had the strength to open his eyes when he heard something fall near him. He was hardly able to lift his eyes open to see Quentin… and another Quentin? One Quentin was on the ground, a trembling mess of a man, and the other Quentin stood tall and unmoving. Jake could barely recognize the taller one being the one who he saw earlier. The smaller survivor looked up to the larger Quentin, terror flooding his face. He watched his doppelganger for what felt like forever, before turning back and facing Jake. He swallowed hard and pulled out his medkit and turned back to look at big Quentin. It was as if he was non verbally asking for reassurance or permission. When the larger made no move, the real Quentin shuffled closer to Jake and opened up the medkit. He carefully pulled the sleeve of Jake's plain black t-shirt and lifted it away from the cut. Jake looked dead. His eyes were lifeless. 

“Jake,” Quentin breathed. His tone was a question, but it was almost like a statement. Jake’s eyes rolled slowly to the smaller Quentin and he let out a short breath.

“Hey,” Jake breathed. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” the other survivor said, though to Jake or himself nobody could be certain. He patted some blood from the wound. The bleeding has slowed dramatically, which seems like it’d be a good sign, but the boy knew he was running out of time. He frantically grabbed more supplies as Jake spoke. 

“Hey… Quentin? How… can you be… Over there and… here at… the… same… time?”

Quentin raised a brow, perplexed at his question, but when he looked back and saw the Shape behind him, he could see the minor similarities between them. He wanted to tell Jake the truth, but he didn’t need Jake's heart rate to raise and start up the bleeding again, so he just decided to go along with it. “M-magic.”

“Cool,” Jake believed, delirious and tired. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. “M’ gonna sleep.”

“No! No Jake, don’t go to sleep,” Quentin urged, shooting a quick glance at Michael as he watched. “Sleeps bad, sleep bad! Okay?”

“Sleep bad?”

“Sleep very bad,” Quentin urged. He hurriedly cleaned the wound and took out a needle and surgical thread. He was a weak seamster, but at this point Quentin was a medical professional, due to how much he’s done this. Truth be told, his skills were extremely lack luster, but at least he had a vague idea of what to do. He continued talking with Jake, and the longer they talked the more he had to dumb down his words. Jake was dying, and Quentin could only try to postpone the inevitable. He shivered, knowing the Shape was staring down at them. 

He wondered why the killer was allowing this to happen, hell, even forcing it to happen. Quentin was working on a generator, before Michael swooped in and stole him from the machine. If Michael wanted to waste time by watching a survivor try and heal someone who’s already practically dead, then he guessed that would make sense, if there wasn't another survivor alive. Feng Min was still alive and working on another generator, so if anything, she’s going to escape and make Michael lose his 14th consecutive 4-survivor-take-down streak. None of this made sense, but perhaps it was to appease the Entity? Maybe it was bored and seeking some more entertainment? Perhaps Michael was the one who was bored, searching for something pathetic to watch. Or perhaps he liked to watch Jake's skin pale more than Quentin's stark white skin.

Quentin finished stitching Jake’s arm, hating how limp he was. Quentin called out his name, but was met with nothing in return. Quentin shook Jake gently, but Jake didn’t move, letting his head flop down lifelessly. Quentin snapped his head back at Michael, who tipped his head to the side. Quentin was terrified to know what the Shape will do if he fails. His bottom lip quivered and he turned back to Jake and shook him roughly this time, trying to wake him up. He was certain Jake was dead, but he pleaded for him to just be sleeping. He continued to call out his name, and soon Jake's eyes slowly pried themselves open. Just as Quentin saw his reflection in them, the gate’s exit siren sounded out. Feng must've finished the last gen. Quentin looked back at the Shape, who didn’t budge an inch. He looked back to Jake.

“Come on Jake,” he gently shook. “Gotta go.”

“Mmm,” Jake tried to speak, but no words came out. Quentin nearly wrapped Jake’s injured arm around his shoulder, but then realized and corrected himself. He shifted to Jake’s left and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. He slowly stood up. _‘God, Jake’s heavy_ , he thought, feeling Jake’s dead weight drag him lower. He grabbed Jake’s hip hard, trying to gain any form of leverage he could. He held his left wrist and looked back at Michael. Myers stood there, watching the two. Quentin nearly forgot about the cut in his leg, but was aggressively reminded of it when he put his and Jake's weight on it. He tried not to cry out in pain, and only let out a whimper. The gash on his leg was deep, just shy of being stabbed all the way through his leg. He limped with Jake, trying to create distance between them and the killer, but nearly pissed himself when he heard the killer follow after them. He snapped his head back, and saw the knife in Michael's hand. He made no effort to stab them, but continued to stalk behind them. Quentin shivered and adjusted Jake's weight. 

“Jake?”

No answer. 

“Jake!?”

“Aaah?”

“Stay awake,” he demanded, fear apparent in his voice. 

“Wha….y?”

“Because…” Quentin started, eyes darting around. He didn’t want to remind Jake he was dying, but he needed to give Jake something to think of, to get his mind on something. Anything to keep his brain going, to not slow his body down anymore than it already has. “Feng needs your help. She’s opening the gate but she can’t do it on her own.”

“Is… Qu...nin gon’ aa help?”

Quentin gulped, reminded of the Shape mere feet behind them. 

“Maybe.”

Jake sighed and slumped his head down lower. He watched his legs drag along the ground. He didn’t let out a grunt when Quentin's leg finally gave out and sent them both crashing to the ground. Quentin’s voice tore out into the darkness, howling in pain. He was pinned down by Jake’s body weight. He shifted, trying to get up, and wincing as his wound scraped the ground. Michael had stabbed him in the fat of his calf earlier, and each squirm he made, twigs and dirt scratched at it. He cried out in pain, and barely managed to wiggle out. He huffed, looking back at Michael. The killer stared back at him. They watched each other silently and Quentin broke their staring contest. He rubbed his leg, trying to urge the pain to leave, before he pulled Jake by the good arm. He wiggled under the saboteurs arm and gripped his hip again. He swayed as he stood up, his body weak and only made worse by Jake’s superior muscle mass. If it was the other way around, Jake carrying Quentin, they’d already be out the gate. They hobbled further, and soon the exit gate came into view. Hope lit up in Quentin, giving him a small boost of adrenaline. 

“Jake! Jake there’s the exit!”

Jake made a small sound, indicating he’s still alive. Quentin limped faster, practically dragging Jake and hearing Michael follow after. If Jake can survive just a little bit longer, he'll be able to get the win. Quentin moved as fast as he could before he stopped in place. He froze once the exit was within his grasp. Feng stood at the gate, face contorted in a look that wasn’t quite fear. It was more akin to hopelessness. The two made eye contact, but her eyes flicked away to Michael behind him, and everything clicked in her head. She looked back to Quentin and said something. He couldn’t quite hear her, due to the howling wind, but she said it again. He watched her lips, trying to repeat the words she spoke. 

“No?” He mumbled before he understood. 

N.O.E.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you liked this chapter. It's not my best work, but it was still kinda fun to write. It was mostly experimental. Michael is kinda a hard character to write and I had a few ideas for this chapter. After writing this version though, I feel like I could've done better. But that's okay! More improvement in the future. 
> 
> I will most likely return to Jake x Michael to make a proper chapter for you guys, because I feel like this one is a bit of a let down. I'll figure something out that will hopefully be much better. 
> 
> Also, thank you to the lovely commenter who requested Jake x Michael, with Jake suffering from bloodloss. I'm sorry I couldn't do your idea justice. I may re-write this in the future, who knows. 
> 
> On a side note, Quentin was super fun and cute to write! I love him, I'll have to think of something else to add him into, because he's too cute (despite looking like a gremlin in the game lol). 
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for reading, and I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say next. Your comments always make me smile!


	10. No Story: Authors Note!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a chapter and completely skip-able! If you don't want to read it, you don't have to and more chapters will come soon! 
> 
> If you do want to read this, I will be talking about the behind the scenes when I was writing each chapter and little tips about writing (though I'm not the best).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, this is not a story. This is me, the author just writing to you guys and just sharing behind the scenes and a tip about writing with you guys.

Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing well, and I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown me. I never expected so many people to enjoy my writing, and as of now my Dbd One Shot Collections has 86 kudos! That's 86 more people than I thought would enjoy my writing, so thank you all so much. I won't bore you all with the cliche thank yous that go on forever, but I just wanted you all to know that I appreciate you all. 

Anyways, so writing! Yeah! 

I've been writing for a few years now, but I'd say I've only generally gotten good at writing about a year ago. My old writing was... ugh. Let's just leave it at that. I've said it before, but I'm pretty sure I have a reading disorder. Many friends have mentioned to me I might have dyslexia, but I'm not too sure. I CAN read, but not consistently. Some days I can read perfectly fine, and other days I can't read a simple text message. Like, I see what the words are, but my brain can't figure out what they mean sometimes, despite it being a word like "the" or "without" or something like that. I've been meaning to get it checked out, but I'm lazy and anxious and I don't wanna talk to people lol. Funny enough though, despite not being able to read all the time, I love writing. I find it really fun and a good outlet for creativity, however, I can't read my own writing though haha. Reading out loud really helps me catch my mistakes and I have to say, if not for my best friend letting me read my stories to her so I can catch my mistakes, you guys wouldn't have as many chapters. So a round of applause for my best friend! 

When I'm writing a chapter, I never have a draft to plan out my story. I never sit down and go "Okay, character A will run over here, then after a while they'll run into character B, then A and B will-". I find if I do that, my stories feel less real. I don't know why, but I feel like it takes me out of the writing zone. Maybe because I feel too pressured to make it good, so I have less fun. When I write, I just go with the flow and write whatever my mind wants to. Then after I revise it and edit it to my liking and post it with the hope you all will enjoy it! 

Now I'm going to go through each chapter I've written, and how I thought of each one or simple things about it. 

Chapter 1: Dwight the Leading Loser

For this chapter, it's actually very loosely based off one of my first rounds of DbD. I had only had the game for 4 days, and I just started playing as Dwight. I used to strictly play as Jake, but then I found out I love my Dwighty boi and I now main as him. Anyways, I was the last survivor, all of the others had gotten sacrificed, and I ended up getting downed by Michael. Instead of taking me to a hook however, Michael took me to the hatch and let me go. It made my day, and a few days later I was playing against a Michael again, and it turned out to be the same player, so we talked and played a few more rounds together. It was a really nice experience for a beginner player. For the chapter, I felt like it would be cool to tap into what happened. Dwight being the final survivor, and Michael choosing to spare him instead of kill him. Obviously some things were changed like him being taken to the gate instead of the hatch, but I felt like it made for more of a dramatic decision. Not much else to say about that first chapter. It's pretty basic and a little boring not gonna lie lol. 

Chapter 2: David x Kate: Songbirds

Songbirds was an interesting story to write about. I didn't really know much about either character, let alone ship them, but since it was requested I decided to give it a shot. I was listening to George Michael's Careless Whisper and then I decided to add the song into the story. I really really enjoyed writing the scene at the campfire where all of the survivors are talking about the killers. My favorite line to quote from all my one shots is;

"“Bleehg, look at me, I’m Ghostface,” he started, drawing his voice nazzley, and bending his arms like a T-Rex. “I’m so fucking horny all the time, let me hook ya, wanna take a picture of ya, oh JEEZ that’s a good shot, gonna jerk to that later-”"

I was giggling like a maniac as I wrote that, so I hope my readers got at least half the kick that I did from it. I also love the relationship between Jake and David that I wrote. The kinda rival yet brotherly bond relationship is really fun to write, and I hope it shows. I major flaw in my writing I noticed is that I keep forgetting to write Davids accent. I have no clue how to write his accent in a convincing/readable way, so I often leave it behind. Maybe you guys could help me out with that? Once I learn how to write his dialogue properly I will go back and edit all of his lines to match his accent accordingly. 

I also enjoyed writing the scene where David and Kate are singing together and dancing. It was a lot more of a cheesy form of romance than what I normally write or like. All in all, I enjoyed writing it and was actually pretty proud of it. 

Chapter 3: Dwight and Meg: Sharing Secrets (part 2 to chapter 1)

Ohhhh boy this chapter was so much fun to write. I don't have too much to say about it other than I was having so much fun writing it. Dwight is my baby and I love him, and Meg is pretty fun to write too. I was kinda struggling to write her though. I wanted her to be a supportive friend who wanted to see her friend get with the guy of his dreams, and not just a fujoshi. I didn't want her to seem like all she cared about was Dwight and Jake getting together, because that was not what I wanted. I wanted her to be sincere. I changed her dialogue so much to ensure she didn't seem shallow, because I'm always so worried my dialogue isn't good. However, many of you have told me you really enjoy my dialogue, which is such a nice complement, and it truly makes my day. It fills me with so much confidence and accomplishment. My best friend kept telling me her dialogue was fine, but being the perfectionist I am, I kept re-writing it lol. 

Chapter 4: Dwight x Jake: Blood Pumping (part 3 to chapter 1)

THIS CHAPTER IS MY BABY. I love this chapter, I'm so proud of it. I personally think it's the best I've wrote. I wrote the chapter like it was a movie playing in my head. I even closed my eyes for most of it as I typed it out, so I could envision it more clearly. I've memorized the keys on my keyboard, so I don't have to look to type. Jake is so much damn fun to write. He's sassy and such a cutie too, but also hella hot as well. I feel like I made Dwight stutter a little too much in this chapter though, so I might edit it later. Their kiss scene was great to write. Anybody who writes, I have a question. When you're writing a scene, can you see it so much in your head that you can almost hear the characters voices or the scent in the air? Because that's how it is for me. I could imagine their voices as I wrote their lines and I hope-hope-hope you guys could see it as clearly as I could. Their frisky scene was really fun to write too, and I swear I spent more time trying to figure out what killer should find them than the actual writing itself lol. I was torn between Michael, Legion (Frank), Ghostface or Trapper. In the end I decided Trapper was the best option. The ending of the fic actually would've changed depending on the killer. 

Trappers ending: Catches the boys and wants to watch them finish up (you most likely read it)   
Michael: He'd be standing off in the distance with a hard on and Dwight would say "Is... is he hard?" and Jake would say a simple "Yep."  
Legion (Frank): They'd look over and see Frank jerking off to them and then Legion would just say "Ah fuck."  
Ghostface: They'd be right about to climax and then they'd look over and see Ghostface video taping them, and then Ghostface would just say "smile boys!"

Those were all the alternate endings and I debated on all of them, but eventually Trapper was the winner. 

Chapter 5: Dwight x Ghostface: Hatch Hunting

Oh boy, this chapter. This chapter by far got the most attention out of all of them. It was also loosely based off another DbD experience of mine. I was playing Dwight, of course, and Ghostface killed all my team-mates sooooo fast. Since I was still pretty new to the game, I could only hope and pray I could find the hatch. When I did, Ghostface kicked it shut and killed me. I wasn't even mad, because that round was so tense and scary, my anxiety had spiked and I actually felt like I was in danger, which was pretty cool in the context of horror games. I don't particularity think DbD typically scary. I find it more fun with tense moments. So after my experience with that Ghostface, I knew I had to write something similar to it. I began to write, and let my mind go wherever, and when I finished, you guys got the first Ghostface chapter. I was unsure if anyone would want the second part to it, but you guys were very kind and asked for a second part so I jumped to my laptop to write the second. My favorite comment I received from that chapter was "If it is possible, I'd like a part 2 please". Something about it was just so funny to me, and it brings a smile to my face every time I read it. I left the commenters user name out because I don't want to overstep their boundaries. But if that commenter is reading this now, I just want to say your comment made me so happy. 

Chapter 6: Dwight x Ghostface Part 2: Earn it

This was the first real smutty chapter, and boy did you guys seem to enjoy it. I really appreciate your kindness. As I wrote it, I kept thinking "Should they have sex in this chapter, or should it just be fingering?" but if you've read that chapter then you know what my decision was. Ghostface/Jed/Danny is so much fun to write, so much perverseness and sass. A commenter kindly explained to me that Ghostface's real name is Danny and I wanted to explain to you all collectively that I already knew his name was Danny. I figured he'd want to tell Dwight his fake name, Jed, because he chose it for himself and he could still keep his real name a secret. I feel like Jed suits him more as a person anyways, but I just wanted to recap that here just in case if anyone was confused or bothered by it. I plan on continuing to call him Jed in future chapters, and I apologize if you don't like that, but I'd like to keep it the same. 

Anyways, you guys were so kind after that chapter as well, but I could say that for all the chapters I post. You all are literally so nice to me and it makes my day. I was a little worried if the chapter would be negatively received, so it was a relief when you all seemed to enjoy it. Some of your comments actually got me to laugh out loud. I did feel like I could've done better with the smut however. So I already made plans on another chapter to make up for it. 

Chapter 7: Jake x Claudette: No More Tears

THIS CHAPTER WAS A NIGHTMARE TO WRITE. I kid you not, I re-wrote it at least five times. I was requested to write this ship, and I had no idea what to do with it. I struggled on it for literal days before I got something worth working on. I finally got something I liked and it still took days and multiple tries to write, but I do like the end result. I was very touched when the person who requested it read and commented on the chapter. I had them in mind the whole time I was writing it. They've been with me since my first chapter, and I really appreciate their support. So if you're the one who requested this and the David x Kate chapter, I want you to know that I appreciate you!!! 

With that out of the way, my biggest struggle was their dialogue. I wanted Jake to seem emotionally distant, but not an outright dick. It was really tough to find a balance between that. Claudette is just a sweetpea, and I totally can see Dwight and her being like the mom and dad of the survivors, just making sure everyone's doing alright, like if they'e eaten or slept and whatnot. Anyways, yeah. This chapter was a major challenge for me, mostly because I was (and still kinda am) going through a writers block. 

Chapter 8: Dwight x Ghostface Part 3 (Bonus Chapter): Drug Addict

This was the 3rd Ghostface chapter. I wrote it with the sole purpose to be more smutty than the second. I tapped into my inner pervert (my inner pervert wasn't too hard to tap into. Amirite? lol). I ended it with Ghostface spotting David jerking off to Ghosty and Dwight having some fun, and I was going to leave it open ended and not add a fourth chapter, but your guy's continuous love for my Dwight x Ghostface chapters is just too hard to deny. So, I will keep a fourth chapter in my list and write it when I can. 

One thing I have to say is that I love that in my first Ghostface chapter, everyone was just like "Oh, nice, can't wait to see where this goes". Then the second chapter comes and everyone's like "damn that/Jed was hot," but then by the third chapter everyone's just like "AWE FUCK HE'S A HAWT BOI YES HE IS GIMMIE DAT D-". I literally was dying of laughter at some of your guy's comments, you guys are so awesome. I'm always excited to see what you guys are going to comment. 

Chapter 10: Jake x Michael (a little bit) Jake x Quentin: Bloodloss

So far I've been saying how much fun I've had writing these chapters and how I like the end result. Unfortunately I cannot say the same with this chapter. It's... alright, but I feel like it's one of the weakest chapters. I'm very disappointed with it. I had a strong plan for it, but it just kinda turned... meh. You know? It's definitely my least favorite chapter out of all the ones I've wrote. Not because of the ship, I was actually really excited to write some Jake x Michael stuff. My writing was just particularly terrible this time around. However, again another commenter was just so kind to me and made me feel better about it, which was really nice. I still don't like it, but I hope my readers do, at least just a little bit. I will write more Jake x Michael chapters to make up for it in the future. 

***

So yeah, that was me talking about the behind the scenes and my general feelings towards my chapters so far. You guys are literally so nice to me and it's so damn motivating. I get so excited to post and you all inspire me so much. I just want to say thank you guys again. You mean so much to me. 

Anyways, enough of that sappy stuff, right? 

I can only give one tip to any writers. You guys seem to like my dialogue, so here's how I do it. My method and tip for you is to just talk out your dialogue. Literally. That's it. Picture the characters, and you're an actor who has to play both/all the roles. You have to convey who they are and make it convincing. What's a better way to make good dialogue than to actually speak out the lines before you write them? Seriously. I'll sit there at my laptop and just mumble lines out. I see how they sound out loud, sometimes even having a full on conversation with myself to understand the flow. After I talk out the lines, I type them down. Or I type and talk at the same time. Doing that will make your speech sound much more lifelike. At least for me it does.

So that's all the stuff I have to say really. I hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you'd like to have another authors note like this in the future where I run down things or just talk to you guys then let me know. I'd probably post one every 9-10 chapters to make sure they're not too frequent. I hate it when authors just post nonstop Authors notes and no story. So I won't be posting these very often, or at all if you guys would rather not read these. Let me know and it won't hurt my feelings if you guys decide you don't want to read these. I just want you guys to know you have a voice here and I want to make sure you guys feel heard. 

In case anyone is curious, these are the request's I have received listed out.

Nea x Meg  
Ace (anything)  
Yui and Adam (Japanese lessons)  
Huntress x Claudette   
Frank x Ghostface  
Frank x Claudette (smut/prompt: Claudette and Frank get stuck together outside a trial and everything gets mixed up)  
Jake x Dwight (forth chapter, after trapper, Dwight rants, at campfire, fooling around, Dwight naked, Jake clothed, Dwight gushes{meg might’ve caught them})  
Jake x Claudette: Part 2   
Dwight x Ghostface (part 4)  
Dwight x Legion  
Pyramid head x Dwight  
David x Dwight  
Dwight x Legion x Ghostface  
Dwight x Pig  
Dwight x Jake x Frank x Joey  
Dwight x Michael 

Currently I am working on a Nea x Meg chapter, along with a Jake x Dwight part 4. I don't know what will come first, or if something else will, but let it be known that those are in the works! 

One last thing before I go: 

What chapter is your favorite so far and why? 

I'm genuinely curious to know what is the best chapter by your guy's options. So please let me know! 

Anyways, thank you all for everything. I look forward to interact with you guys more. Have a fantastic day/night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proof read or edit this, so let me know if there's typos and I'll be sure to fix them!


	11. Dwight x Jake: Lover Boy (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jake and Dwight return from the trial with Trapper, Dwight is left with a lot of emotions. Good thing Meg is nice to talk to, and Jake knows how to make it up to him. 
> 
> But that doesn't mean things will end smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to post! It's extremely long! Over 11,000 words! I wanted to make a really long chapter for you guys because the last few were kinda short. Hopefully this will make up for it! 
> 
> Also, trigger warning. This chapter contains homophobic language, specifically the f-slur. It also contains more gore than normal, so if you'd prefer to skip this chapter that's perfectly okay! 
> 
> Anyways, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

“Are you fucking serious?” Dwight shouted when they got back to camp. Jake stood across from him, a sheepish expression plastered on his face. Dwight’s cheeks were flushed a fiery shade of red and Jake couldn’t help but get a little pink himself. They were at a stand still while all the other survivors stood around the campfire staring at the two with confused expressions. Meg was the first to ask what was wrong, locking her eyes on Dwight, but Jake opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get a single word out however, he was cut off by the fierious leader. 

“That was a stupid idea,” he barked. “A stupid stupid idea.”

“Yeah… it really was, huh?” Jake agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. Meg was appalled to hear the tone from her friend as he cursed his boyfriend. Dwight was never this aggressive. Something bad must’ve happened, something really bad. She looked around the campfire and noticed other survivors carrying similar expressions to her own. She spoke up. 

“What was a stupid idea?” Meg asked. Her question was completely ignored by the two males. Dwight covered his face in his palms and groaned. 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into that,” he said while fixing his glasses. 

“How was I supposed to know Trapper would find us?”

“It’s Trapper! What did you expect?”

“What? What happened?” Meg insisted. Jake opened his mouth to answer her, but Dwight raised a finger in the air towards his boyfriend, silencing him. 

“Do not tell her.”

“Why Dwight? What happened,” she urged. Dwight shook his head and crossed his arms, and a silence rose at the campfire. Not a single survivor has seen Dwight lose his temper. He’s always nervous and afraid, and if not that, then he’s forcing a smile on. If the leader smiles and acts happy, then everyone else will follow soon after. He wasn’t a guy to get angry for nothing, and whatever the reason for his anger is, it couldn’t be good. 

“Meg, it’s fine,” he dismissively spat before turning his attention back to Jake. “You should’ve known Trapper would’ve found us.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry Dwight, I just… I dunno, I thought it’d be a good idea.”

“Well it wasn’t.” A silence fell for a brief moment before Dwight started up again, face flaring a sharp shade of red. “God! That was terrible.”

“I know,” Jake muttered, trying to calm him. He walked up to his boyfriend and rubbed his shoulder gently. Dwight eyed him, and Jake gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry, my bad.”

Dwight sighed and looked away, “Yeah… I know… I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Jake smiled wider. “Hey, at least we know what we’re not doing again!”

The two laughed a little, tension easing. Meg still had her eyes locked on them like a hawk. She was about to start talking, but Ace rose to his feet and sauntered up to them. He shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. With a tip to his head he spoke. 

“So… what did happen?”

Jake, without skipping a beat and giving Dwight a heart attack, spoke up. 

“Dwight and I were gonna try and test out some extra escape routes and stuff, you know, for future trials,” he turned to Dwight and gave him a knowing look in the eyes. Dwight soon caught on to Jake’s lie and felt more at ease. “but then Trapper saw us and we got cornered. He moried us.”

“Damn,” Ace muttered. He scratched his chin and turned to the leader. “You both got moried?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” Dwight started. “We were off in the basement… trying to figure out if there were any other ways to get out other than the stairs.”

“Was there?”

“If there was, would we have gotten moried?” Jake laughed. 

“Guess not,” Ace chuckled. “Sorry that happened.”

“Eh, life I guess.”

“Right,” Ace laughed. “Trapper is a real pain in the ass isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is.” Dwight agreed. He took in a deep breath and looked at the ground. There was a lot on his mind. He was regretful for yelling, embarrassed for getting caught in such a lewd act and still stressed from the trial. He was ready for a nap. His mind, body and soul were sore and begging for just a little bit of peace. He looked over at Meg, who’s eyes were full of concern and confusion. He stretched his lips into a tight line, as if to mimic a smile, but it remained flat and fake. He scratched the back of his neck and nearly jumped when Jake placed a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his boyfriend, and felt a small sense of calm wash over him. He genuinely smiled at the man before shyly turning his face away. 

Jake and Ace continued talking, but Dwight decided to sit down and relax. He rested his back on the fallen tree Jake and Dwight called their own. He bit at his fingernails as he thought back to Trapper and the trial. There were so many emotions flooding him, and he couldn’t help but shift anxiously. He could feel Meg watching him, waiting for the chance to strike. On one hand, he wanted to talk about it. On the other, the last thing he wanted was to talk about it. He spent so many years keeping everything bottled inside, that anything different feels like a betrayal of his being. He gnawed at his fingers mindlessly, eyes blank. He was staring at the campfire, but he didn’t see it. He was tucked far back into his own mind that even his vision was a blur. 

He was startled from his thoughts when Meg finally pounced. She tapped him on the shoulder and flicked her head to the side, silently suggesting for the two to walk off together. It took a moment to process the motion, but once Dwight understood, he stood up, brushed the dirt from his rear and followed after the red head. The duo walked off into the forest and only stopped when they arrived at a comfortable clearing that he and Meg often talked at. He sat on a stump and gave a nervous smile. Meg sat herself on a rock, then crossed her legs with her hands in her lap. She looked at him with a light yet serious expression. Similar to a mother disciplining her child but trying to be kind about it. 

“You okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Ah-uh… it’s… it was nothing.”

“Well that ‘nothing’ sure got you riled up,” she satiated. He scratched his head, blushing and looking down at the forest floor. 

“Yeah… it’s just that… well, Trapper caught us and moried us.”

“I know you enough to know that’s not the full story.”

“Meg, I just,” he started before palming his face. “Ugh.”

“Dwight, you can tell me.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? How so? We’ve all been caught before.”

“Not like how we were,” he groaned. She lifted a brow, perplexed at his words. She just had to know what happened. She leaned forward, eyes widening and hands holding her ankles. 

“You’ve gotta tell me Dwight. What happened?”

With a sigh he started. 

“So… Jake and I were in the trial together.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And… I dunno, he… we thought it would be a good idea to sneak off and… I dunno… fool around I guess?”

“Fool around?” She blurted. “Like, like, like sex? Or like, making out, or like-”

“Well,” he cut her off, getting a little tired of hearing the word ‘like’. “We kinda went off behind a tree and made out...”

“Behind a tree? That’s a bad idea.”

“Well it wasn’t just a tree, it was a big rock and a tree. It was tucked into the corner of the trial walls. We thought it had good coverage.”

“Ohh… okay. Jake thought of that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dwight nodded. 

“Sooo… what else?” Meg urged, aching to know more of the details. He flushed, and shamefully was excited to tell. It felt so naughty to be discussing this, but he couldn’t fight the urge rising up from his belly to spill the beans. He gave a little smirk, and spoke up. 

“So, we went off and hid behind this tree.”

“Rock and tree,” Meg giggled. 

“Yes, precisely,” he joked back. “So, we went back there, and we… we started making out, and things got a little… heated… and then Trapper came and it was just-” he groaned. “Just awful.”

“Wait, so Trapper caught you, doing what?”

“I was sitting on Jake.”

“Like sex?” 

“No!” He laughed, rubbing his face. “God damn it Meg.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! My mind is racing. You have to tell me everything.”

“I'll get to it, I’ll get to it,” he waved her off with a giggle. “Jesus Meg, I’m traumatized and all you care about is if I got some.”

“Sorry,” she chuckled and shook her head. She waved her hands as if to clear their last conversation from the air. “Okay, so, start over. Make it detailed.”

Dwight groaned and rubbed his face, unable to keep a smile back. Meg always made him feel better about things, and even with something as bad as this, she’s making him feel like it’s nothing to worry about. She does wonders on his anxiety. She could be the next anxiety medication. Instead of Xanax it could be Meggem. He took in a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. 

“Okay, so we started the trial together, and Jake had this idea that we could… sneak off during a trial and… well. You know. So we did some gens, yadda-yadda middle yadda, we sneak off to that back corner and start making out right? Well, we got a little more frisky than I thought we would… and… and… so like, have you ever sat on a dude’s lap before?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, when I sat on him...” Dwights face turned beet red and his eyes were locked onto the grass below him. He couldn’t hide his small smile before muttering the rest. “He was so hard.”

“Oh my god,” she facepalmed. She peeked an eye through her fingers. “Keep going.”

“And so like, were doing all… that, and he was just… making me fucking melt and...”

“And?” She urged, practically falling off her rock. 

“And right when I was about to…”

“About to?”

“Cum.”

“Dwight oh my God!” She squealed. She practically slapped the air she was so enthralled with the gossip. “Then what happened?”

“Well what happened next fucking sucked I’ll tell you that.”

“What? What? What happened?”

“Right when I was about to cum, I looked up and saw Trapper watching us.”

“Oh my god! You’re kidding right?”

“I fucking wish I was,” he groaned, face redder than a tomato. “He made us… he made us keep going while he… jerked.”

“Jerked off!?”

“Yeah,” Dwight admitted, covering his face. His cheeks burned and the shame was stronger than ever. Meg was aghast. All she could do was stare at her friend with wide eyes as his words sunk in. 

“So wait, let me get this straight. Trapper caught you and Jake fooling around, and he jerked off to you guys?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. 

“That’s fucking horrible!”

“I know! Then after he finished, he moried us.”

“That’s so fucked up, I’m sorry Dwight.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I guess it could be worse.”

“I’d like to not think about what would make that worse.”

“Yeah...”

There was a break of silence between them. They shifted glances all around, but not to each other. It was hard to find words when there were so many thoughts. Dwight continued to bite at his nails, clearly thinking of what happened. Meg wanted to tell him it’s okay, but it’s not. It’s not okay what he had to go through. She knows he’s suffered a lot in life, and it’s unfortunate he has to suffer even more here normally, but now with this addition? Dwight’s life is a depressing autobiography that people would write off as fiction due to the absurd amount of tragedy. 

“Well...” Meg started, causing him to look at her. “At least you were able to get further with Jake, I bet that was nice while it lasted.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said, face softening into a tender smile. “I told him I love him.”

“You did!? Did he say it back?” 

“Yeah,” Dwight grinned a little wider, trying not to let tears of joy well up in his eyes. “He said he loves me so much.”

“Oh Dwight,” Meg placed her hands over her heart. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too. God, Meg. He means so much to me.”

“I know,” she smiled. They locked eyes together and Dwight was suddenly aware of how genuinely kind she is to him. Her smile was the sun, and he felt sad that he didn’t show his appreciation for her enough. His smile slowly fell, and he looked down. She noticed this and cocked her head to the side. Little to her knowledge, Trapper haunted his mind. Just as she parted her lips to speak, he opened his mouth. 

“I just really wish it wasn’t Trapper.”

“Who caught you?”

“Yeah… Hey Meg?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“You already are,” she gave a chuckle. “Of course Dwight, what’s up?”

“When I first came here, it was just me and Trapper,” he told her as she nodded in acknowledgement. “You know, even though I was the only one, I always felt like there were more before me.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t know persay, but I just felt it.”

“Did you ever find anything?”

“Not really, nothing really memorable, but my gut tells me there were more survivors.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she placed her hand on her chin as she thought. “The Entities probably been fucking with people for a long time.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. He looked up at her. He wanted to open up, to let her learn about him, but he didn’t want to give her a sob story. He darted his eyes around before continuing to speak. He unintentionally started with something unrelated. “In school kids picked on me, called me Dwight Fuck-field and other shit.”

“Fuck-field?” Meg inquired. 

“It was just a stupid joke this kid made. I was talking to this girl about a comic con I wanted to go to, and this kid Josh said ‘nobdy gives a fuck Dwight’ and everyone laughed. After a while it kinda turned into ‘nobody gives a fuck about Dwight,’ and then it finally became Fuck-field.”

“Tha’ts so dumb,” Meg scoffed with an eyeroll. “Real mature of that kid.”

“Yeah,” Dwight gave a breathy laugh. “I guess in hindsight it was kinda funny.”

“Did it hurt your feelings?”

“Well… yeah,” he admitted. 

“Then it wasn’t funny.”

“This is why I love talking to you,” he smiled. “You’re always so nice.”

“I’m nice? I believe you haven’t looked in a mirror Mr. Fairfield. You’re so nice.”

“Eh, give or take. Let me get comfortable with ya and I’m a total asshole.”

“Aren’t we all?” She laughed, earning a giggle from him. “Alright Mr. Dwighty, continue.”

“Dwighty,” he parroted with a snicker. “That’s new.”

“Not really, the girls call you that a lot.”

“I’ve never heard you guys call me that.”

“That’s because we do it when you’re not around,” she laughed. He groaned with a large smile and rubbed his face. She laughed more, shifting her body weight on the rock, which was now getting uncomfortable under her butt. She flicked her head, making her braids fall behind her shoulders instead of in front where they scratched her chest. Dwight also adjusted his position. Maybe the Entity had a grudge against comfortability. Once the two had their giggles out and had readjusted properly, Dwight continued. 

“But yeah… school kinda sucked. I thought that adult life would be better for me, but it kinda was just the same. I was still just boring Dwight.”

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “But a lot of people do.”

“How… how did you get taken?” Meg asked. She’s wanted to know for a long time, since she first showed up, but he never opened up about it, but now that he’s talking about his past, this may be the opportunity to learn. 

“Oh.” He scratched his neck. “You wanna hear about that?”

“If you don’t wanna tell me you don’t ha-”

“No, no. It’s… I was drunk, I think.”

“You think?” She tipped her head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean you think?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Well… so, the days before I went missing, my boss was talking to me and my co-workers, said something about going on this team building exercise. I-I really didn’t want to go, but they said it would be fun, so I just kinda… went.”

“What happened?”

“We went into the woods, there was this clearing there, maybe a campsite or something, because there was a fireplace and everything. My boss brought out some alcohol, I think he said it was Moonshine? It doesn’t really matter I guess. Anyways, they let me take the first sip and I blacked out.”

“Are you a lightweight?”

“Well, yeah, but not that bad. I’ve never blacked out from a sip before. I’ve drank my dads beers and at a wedding, even at a stupid party I was dragged to, and I have blacked out before, but not that fast. Not like that,” he mumbled at the end of the sentence. His eyes scanned the treeline, as if he was trying to see into the past. 

“Do you think you were drugged?”

“I think so.”

“Why would they ever do that to you?” Meg frowned, lips forming into a tight line. 

“I dunno. Maybe they thought it would be funny?”

“That is not funny,” she scowled. She was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to rage. Dwight is so kind and shy. How could anyone hurt him like that and for what reason? For a sick prank? If she ever caught anyone hurting Dwight she’d commit murder. Jake better pray to God that he’ll never hurt Dwight, because Meg would stop at nothing to hurt him back. She watched and waited for Dwight to continue speaking. 

“When I woke up I felt hungover, so I guess I might’ve drank more.”

“Or it coulda been the drugs.”

“Could be,” he shrugged. “But I was in the forest still, I guess they left me there. I walked around trying to figure out which way was the road but I couldn’t… it was like a frickin’ maze… and then the fog came. I guess I blacked out again because when I woke back up I was flat on my back by the campfire. Of course I freaked out, and I swear everything hurt so bad. I ran into the woods to try and get to the road, but no matter which way I ran I always came back to the fire.”

“That sounds like it was really scary.”

“It was,” he held his arms. 

“I’m sorry Dwight.”

“It’s okay, you went through it too.”

“But I had you. You didn’t have anyone.”

“Yeah,” he nodded sadly. There was an aching look in his eyes, something heavy, but Meg couldn’t quite place what. Luckly, she didn’t have to theorise on it for long, because Dwight spoke up. “Meg… I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I brought you here.”

“Huh?” Meg recoiled slightly, baffled by his words. “Nuh-uh, how?”

“Well, you know how it was just me and Trapper here,” he reminded, watching Meg nod. “I… I got so sick of being alone, so sick of dealing with it all… I prayed that someone would come and… and take Trappers attention off me. I just wanted to go home, for someone to take my place, and then you came… I-I didn’t know you had a family. I didn’t know that you’d be taken, or that there’d be more, I didn’t know-”

“Dwight,” Meg stopped him. He looked up at her, tears pouring down his cheeks. He didn’t even know he was crying until she spoke. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not I-”

“Yes it is Dwight,” she insisted, standing her ground. She rose to her feet and walked up to him still sitting on his stump. “You didn’t bring me here, the Entity did. You’d never hurt me, you could never hurt me.”

“But I-”

“But you nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what anyone would do, you’re human Dwight, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But,” he started, but couldn’t find the words to finish. His eyes were like faucets. They poured tears down his cheeks and let them drip off his chin. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to choke back any other sobs that threatened to make him any less of a man. “I just feel so bad.”

“Don’t. I would’ve done the same,” she rested her hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good guy. My best friend too. In and out of here.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he truthfully replied. “I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.”

“We’re all a wreck Dwight, that’s what makes us survivors.”

“Yeah,” he croaked with a smile. “I’m sorry I’m such a crybaby.”

“You’re not. You have the right to cry sometimes.”

“But I feel like I do it so much.”

“Well look what you’ve gone through,” she blurted. “You’ve been picked on and your whole life, and now you have to deal with a fucking demon-god-spider thing. You have every right to cry every now and then.”

“Thanks Meg. I-I… I just want to say that I really really appreciate you. I’ve… I’ve never had someone like you in my life, someone who’s… been there for me, and I’m sorry I’m not always the best to be around, and I know that sometimes I-”

“Dwight,” she smiled. He looked up at her, eyes reflecting the moonlight. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a comforting hug. “You’re my best friend. There’s nothing that you could say or do that will change that. We’re family now.”

“Thanks Meg,” he breathed into the hug, tears finally beginning to slow. “I-”

“If you’re going to apologize again I’m gonna kick you in the nuts.”

“That’s not nice,” he giggled. They parted from their hug. She grinned and stepped out of his space bubble. He looked to the ground, thinking of all the things that happened today. He still felt violated by Trapper, and he still wanted to rage at the thought of it, but Jake and Meg were his happy place. It’s not right for him to take it out on them. He wiped the tears and snot from his face and cleared his throat. Meg plopped herself back on her rock and grinned. 

“If that’s what it takes to get you to stop, then that’s what I gotta do.”

“Yeah because just a simple ‘stop’ is too easy.”

“It doesn’t work,” she snickered. “Feel better?”

“For the most part, yeah. I still feel kinda bad… about yelling at Jake.”

“I’m sure he understands.”

“Yeah, but I should apologize.”

“Then who am I to keep you,” she smiled with her head tipped to the side. She crossed her legs comfortably and signaled for him to leave. He realised, then stood and grinned at her. 

“Thanks Meg.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever loser,” she teased. 

“Oh my,” he dramatically gasped. “So mean.”

“Yes, now you better go on and get before I teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

“Yes ma’am,” he gave an affirmative nod before parting ways. He walked back to the campfire, all the while trying to plan out an apology. He wanted to show Jake he was sorry, but he was tired of being a cry baby about it. He cursed every bad event in his life, even when he told the waiter ‘you too’ after the waiter told him to enjoy his food. He ran through several apologies, but for the life of him, nothing seemed good enough. He wished he never yelled at him. The guilt burned in his chest and he felt like puking. When the fire finally came into view, he gulped it all down and stepped forward. Jake laid in their spot, arms crossed behind his head, feet close to the fire like normal, eyes softy shut. Dwight slowly approached him, but jumped slightly when Claudette spoke up. 

“Hi Dwight, where’s Meg?”

“Oh,” he gasped. “She hung back, wants some time to herself.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, embarrassed now that he was caught. He wasn’t sneaking up on anyone, so there was no reason to feel embarrassed, but he still was. Almost as though his very presence being acknowledged was mortifying. He shifted to a sitting position next to his boyfriend, who made no movement or sound. A ping of anxiety rushed through Dwight. ‘Oh no,’ he thought. Jake’s mad at him. He’s so mad. He wants to break up. He doesn’t want to see him anymore. He hates Dwight. He-

“Feeling better?” Claudette called out, snapping him out of his panic. He feverishly nodded, but stopped suddenly. He didn’t just wrong Jake. He wronged everyone. 

“Yeah… Hey guys?” He called out, causing the majority of the survivors to look at him. His heart ached and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. I… it won’t happen again. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Kate piped up. 

“Crap happens,” Nea shrugged. “Besides, it was kinda funny.”

“Shut up Nea,” Feng said, despite fully agreeing. 

“No, no, she’s got’a point,” David chuckled. 

“Nobody asked you David,” Dwight snickered. He bent his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He was still focused on Jake, despite not looking at him. He was certain Jake was furious with him. 

“OI! Don’t be’a dick,” David pretended to be angry with an exaggerated scowl. “I’m just makin’ fun.”

Dwight blew a raspberry at the brit before turning to look at Jake. His expression was blank, well, Jake’s version of blank. Jake’s resting face always looks angry or at the very least annoyed. His brows sit low on his face, so when he is relaxing, it always looks like somebody made him mad. In times like these, with Dwight’s anxiety peaking, it feels like Jake’s ready to snap a neck. Dwight gulped his feelings down, and poked Jake’s leg softly. He watched as Jake’s eyes opened and he glared up at Dwight. Dwight tried not to flinch at the glare, and in a soft voice he asked, “can we talk?”

“Here or in private?” Jake mumbled. 

“Private? Preferably.”

Jake rubbed his eye and gave a yawn. Dwight bounced up and stook out a hand, and to his relief, Jake took it and rose to his feet. Like many times before, they walked off into the woods, found their secret spot to talk and made themselves comfortable. Dwight knew with his anxiety he shouldn’t sit, so he rested his back against a tree with his arms crossed and hands tucked into his armpits. Jake mirrored his position and stood with his back against a tree across from him. They stood there for a moment before Dwight spoke up. 

“Jake I’m sorry for yelling at you, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” he smiled. That smile washed away most of the weight on the leader's shoulders. He gave an audible sigh and Jake snickered. He smiled a little bigger and walked over to Dwight, placing his hands on his hips. Dwight’s breathing hitched and he uncrossed his arms and rested his hands on Jakes shoulders. Jake gently pawed at him, before leaning in and giving him a tender kiss. 

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, I thought it would,” he muttered, eyes transfixed on Dwight’s lips. Pink, a little chapped, but so desirable. 

“It’s okay,” Dwight kissed him. “I shoulda been more vigilant.”

“Nah, you were fine.” Jake cupped his hand over Dwight’s cheek and rubbed it. Dark eyes met with even darker eyes, and it made Dwight’s knees buckle and chest flutter. “I just… I just wanted to show you how good you make me feel, and I guess I got a little dumb.”

“You… you can show me now… if you want.”

“Are you sure? Even after what happened I-”

Jake was cut off when Dwight pulled him in for a deep kiss. He shyly froze for a moment, but then melted into the touch. He pushed the nerd against the tree, arms wrapped around his head and shoulders as his tongue snaked out. He tried to keep it back, but soon their tongues found each other and the kiss heated exponentially. Dwight gripped Jake’s pants and yanked him to meet with his hips. Dwight was already hard as a rock, and that information made pleasure creep up Jake's spine. His groin began to feel rigid, and soon he was half hard. He was in love with every gasp and moan Dwight let out. He was in love with the feeling of their bodies pressed together, how they felt like two bodies shared by the same soul. The way Dwight’s eyes flickered between innocence and desire made Jake’s knees feel weak. 

“I’m sorry for being a brat,” Dwight whispered between kisses. 

“I’m sorry for being an idiot,” Jake chuckled, voice husky. Dwight pulled at Jake’s scarf, letting the fabric slowly fall from his body. 

“I like it, as long as we don’t get killed.”

“Well judging from today, it’s a pretty high chance.”

“Eh, I guess I love it regardless,” Dwight smiled. “I meant what I said.”

“About loving when I’m dumb?”

“No,” he laughed. “Well, I mean yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I mean… when I said I love you. I… I really do. A lot.”

“Me too,” Jake breathed. 

“Glad you love yourself,” Dwight snorted, causing Jake to flush and give him a hard kiss. 

“Smart ass,” he muttered, lightly nibbling on Dwight’s lower lip. The nerd let out a breathy chuckle, leaning further into the bite. His hands roamed, gripping and squeezing wherever they could grab. Jake pulled at his hair softly, and Dwight had to bite back a whine. Their kissing slowly ended with Jake pulling them onto their knees. It was awkward, but Jake managed to slip behind Dwight, chest to back. Dwight was a little confused with the position of choice, and what it meant for them, but he was very eager to learn. Jake peppered his neck and jaw with little kisses and love bites, his gloves long discarded sometime between the shifting movements that had them settled on their knees. Jake began loosening Dwight’s tie, and all the leader could do was let out an aroused sigh. 

Once his tie was removed, Jake slipped his hands up Dwight’s shirt. Dwight let out a gasp, his hips involuntarily rolling forward, as if an invisible object would brush against his groin. He shuttered, body already knowing where Jake’s hands were traveling to. He craved it, and when Jake finally rolled his fingers over his nipples, Dwight let out a high pitched whine. The sound of it alone made Jake’s heart and stomach flutter like butterflies. His heart beat like a drum in his chest, rhythmic and hard, banging with more force the more Dwight’s body came undone in his hands. He planted a firm kiss on Dwight’s throat, and couldn’t help but smile when Dwight’s head rolled to the side, granting him more access. 

“Excited?”

“Yeah,” Dwight exhaled. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Reflexively, he wanted to touch himself, however, his body also demanded to touch his boyfriend. Thus, his arms were conflicted, unsure of what to do, so he settled with holding onto Jake’s arms. He shuttered, feeling Jake softly pinch his left nipple, while the thumbed over the right. Dwight zipped his lips tightly shut, trying to silence the needy whines that desperately wanted to be free. Jake rested his chin on Dwight’s shoulder, eyeing over Dwight’s body. It rolled into his touch, light thrusts to the air, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed a fiery red. He pushed himself flush against Dwight’s body, and Dwight let out a gasp. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m so okay.”

“What’s the matter?” Jake asked, though he wasn’t concerned. He knows exactly why Dwight had gasped in such a way. 

“You’re… you’re so hard,” he whispered. Jake licked a stripe up Dwight’s neck and he shivered. Little to Dwight’s knowledge he’d be doing a lot more than just shivering, because one of Jake's hands slid down his chest, down his stomach and finally met with his groin. He took in a sharp breath, spine arching in response. His hand cupped over Jake’s which was now palming over his erection. Dwight turned his face to give his boyfriend a needy, open mouthed kiss, which Jake happily returned. All the air was stolen from Dwight’s lungs when Jake’s hand unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His fingers traced along the rim of his briefs before diving in. He brushed past the thin bundle of pubic hair and gently wrapped his hand around Dwight’s hard on. 

“Fuck,” Dwight squeeked, arching further into the touch. He looked down to watch Jake’s hand, softly jerking him. He didn’t hold him tight, in fact, the hold was loose, teasing. It offered him pleasure, but wouldn’t be so kind to give him release. The lack of lubrication wasn’t a problem due to the feather like caresses. Dwight grabbed Jake’s wrist with urgency, pushing back against the Asian and earning a low groan in response. Jake took the hint and pulled Dwight’s cock free from his clothes. It sprung out and bounced into the air. A shiver wracked through Dwight’s body as the cold outside air chilled him, but the cold felt nice against his overheated skin. 

“You’re wet,” Jake muttered, pointer finger pressing into Dwight’s slit as precum poured from him. Of course Dwight would be wet, Jake turns him on horrifically bad. He has him dripping like a faucet, his body desperately needing Jake’s body against him. He’s a horny little virgin and Jake is his ultimate desire, so of course his body would be reacting this way, but being called out made his cheeks burn and he turned his face away. 

“Shut up.”

“I like it,” Jake kissed him. “I like that I do that to you.”

With that, Jake collected a fair amount of precum and began to slowly pump Dwight’s length up and down. The action tore a moan from the nerd, but that only encouraged him. Jake kept his hand fairly loose, not wanting to drive Dwight into overdrive or make him feel overwhelmed. He wanted to make sure Dwight would be able to say no at any given time, or just for him to know he had control. Jake continued to play with one of Dwight’s nipples as he casually pumped him. 

“Is this okay?”

“It’s so okay.”

“Does it feel good?”

“So good,” Dwight muttered, eyes trying to flutter shut but he wanted to keep them open. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You can go tighter… If you want.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“Mhmm.”

The hand gripped him tighter, and his body trembled. Dwight slouched into Jake, his body matching the curves of the other. Jake’s hand, now tighter, stroked him up and down, a rhythm now gained. He continued playing with Dwight’s nipple, painlessly pinching it, rubbing and rolling it. It was like Dwight was a musical instrument, and Jake just picked him up and instantly knew how to play him. He was making Dwight sing a song, a beautiful, breathy song. It was music to Jakes ears. He kissed Dwight’s shoulder, and took his hand out of his shirt. Jake got busy undoing each and every button. It was difficult with one hand, but since his gloves had long been discarded, it was easier. He showered Dwight’s neck, jaw and cheek with kisses. 

When his shirt finally fell open, he pulled it off him with not a second to spare. He set it down to the side, and placed a hand on Dwight’s shoulder blade. He pushed him slightly forward and kissed his back. Dwight bent over for him, placing one hand on the Earth, the other remained on Jake’s hand that was still stroking him. Dismay hit him when Jake’s hand slowly slid off his member and didn’t come back. Dwight whined and looked back at him. The look on Jake’s face sent fire straight down to his groin. His eyes were half lidded, pupils drawn wide. His eyebrows still rested low on his face, but this time they didn’t look angry, they looked focused. Dwight couldn’t miss the pink that darkened his cheeks. Jake gave him a peck like kiss before grabbing Dwight’s button up shirt and laying it out flat on the ground beside a tree. Then he grabbed his scarf that was left behind and folded it up into a plump round shape. He set it on the base of the tree at a small incline. 

“Lay back,” Jake breathed, softly pushing Dwight down. Dwight eagerly rested his head on Jake’s scarf and with his shirt keeping mud and twigs from stabbing him, he was actually comfortable. Dwight reached for Jake’s parka and slid the zipper down. Once the jacket was open, Dwight began to take it off, but Jake finished the job. His plain black t-shirt held his torso fairly tightly, showing off the toned body Dwight wasn’t normally able to see. Dwight felt like cumming just from that, but he needed more. He reached for the rim of his shirt, but Jake pulled his hands away and carefully pinned them near the sides of his head. Dwight looked at him confused, body involuntarily rolling up, trying to make contact with the Asian American, and Jake just gave him a kiss. 

“I want this to be for you,” Jake said. “Take it as an apology.”

“But I wanna touch you,” Dwight leaned up and kissed him. 

“I’ll get my turn eventually, but right now, this is about you.”

Jake grabbed the waistline of Dwight’s pants, and Dwight lifted his hips, allowing the fabric to be pulled down. His pale thighs were revealed to Jake, and it tore the breath from his chest. He continued removing the pants until they rested at Dwight’s ankles. He slipped off each sock and shoe and set them aside before finishing the job. Dwight blushed heavily and covered his most vulnerable bits. He hasn’t been seen naked before, at least not in his adult life. As a baby, definitely, and as a child, sure. He had a problem with clothes when he was around five. He’d try and run out of the house naked, thus his dad would always have to catch him before he sprinted out the door. However, as an adult, nobody has ever been close enough to him for them to see him naked. He never thought anyone would want him, but here he is, laying naked on a forest floor with his hot ass boyfriend hovering above him. 

“Are you okay,” Jake asked, voice concerned. Dwight didn’t even want to know what kind of face he was sporting. He just turned his face to look away as he could feel the flames of his blush melting down to his neck and shoulders. 

“Y-yeah. It’s just… embarrassing.”

“We could sto-”

“No! No, no. I’m… I like this, I’m just not used to it...”

“I get that.”

“Do… do you think someone will see,” Dwight questioned, finally glancing back at Jake for reassurance. 

“Well apparently I’m not a good judge on that, wanna ask Meg?” He chuckled. Dwight snort-laughed, then covered his mouth, growing more flustered that he just snorted like a pig, a very naked pig. He covered his face as it burned even more. Jake giggled, an admiring smile rising up on his face. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Dwight’s chest. His hair tickled against the pale torso, but it only made Dwight let in a quiet gasp. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me,” Jake muttered, planting another kiss on Dwight. “Nothing you do is gonna turn me off.”

“Eve-hin,” Dwight squeaked as Jake’s mouth clamped down on one of his nipples. “Even if I picked my nose or something?”

“Everyone picks their nose. Now if you ate it after we’d have some problems,” Jake licked up Dwight’s chest and met with his lips. The two had a brief giggle fit before a makeout session. Dwight wrapped his arms around Jake’s neck, and moaned when Jake's hand slid to grab his ass, before sliding down to his knee and encouraging Dwight’s leg to wrap around him. He didn’t even have to do the same thing with the other, because Dwight locked his legs around his boyfriend. He choked a moan back when Jake’s hand found his cock again, and started pumping it. He held tightly onto Jake’s shirt, kissing him with more need. He thrusted into Jake’s hand, which still used his precum as lube. Dwight wanted to keep his voice down, but he wasn’t like Jake. He didn’t have an iron will that could keep any sounds from escaping his lips. His will was more akin to paper. Bendable and weak. Not tough like iron. 

“Jake,” Dwight panted into the kiss.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” 

Jake smiled. “I love you too.”

He let go of Dwight’s cock and pawed at his legs. He spread them off him and began to shift lower. All the pornos that Dwight’s watched flashed in his eyes and his cock twitched as Jake continued to bring his head lower, his hair leaving a ticklish trail down his stomach. Dwight held his breath, praying that Jake was going to do what he thought he was going to do. He pulled at his own hair, staring down at Jake, whose face was now only inches away from his hard member. Dwight’s chest raised up and down quickly, his breathing getting harder and harder to keep in check. His free hand found its way into Jakes hair. He tugged at it gently, hoping Jake would grant him a wish.

“Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Please.”

With that, Jake wrapped his hand around Dwight’s dick. His lips parted, and his tongue licked Dwight’s cockhead, forcing a full body shutter to take over his body. Jake swirled his tongue around his tip, pushing slightly into the slit. The taste of Dwight’s precum filled his mouth, and the flavor only fleweled his desire. With his lips encapsulated around Dwight’s cock, and hand wrapped around the base, Jake took him down his throat. Jake does have a gag reflex, but it isn’t very sensitive, so he took Dwight down deeper and deeper until he had him down to the hilt. Dwight was trembling, thighs spread open and arms weak. He was already panting, face dark and spine arching. He bit his lip to try and contain the moans, but they only turned into whines. 

“Fuck Jake,” he panted, glasses somehow asque. “That feels so good.”

Jake would’ve given him a verbal response, but with his mouth full he gave him a physical one instead. With his mouth and hand forming a hot tunnel, he bobbed up and down in a steady motion. The pleasure bleed through Dwight’s body, crashing over him in waves he never knew were possible. He’s touched himself a million times, but he’s never felt this good before. He looked down to watch, and nearly choked on his saliva when Jake’s eyes met with his. Jake’s dark eyes locked on his own. He sucked him down earnestly, and an idea crept inside his mind. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, letting Dwight's dick drag along his tongue like a popsicle. He did this, all the while making eye contact. Dwight melted. 

“Fuck,” he whined. “Jake-fuck.”

“You like that,” Jake muttered in a low, seductive voice. 

“Yeah.”

Jake went back to work, sucking him down until he had no more inches left to offer. Jake ran his tongue along the vein in his cock, making Dwight let out a moan. Dwight’s hands fumbled around everywhere. His or Jake’s hair, the grass, his shirt, Jake’s shoulders, you name it. They finally made the decisive decision to grip Jake’s hair and bob him slightly up and down. He turned his face to the side, panting and moaning hard as Jake gave him the best pleasure he's ever felt in his life.

Dwight, throughout his life, had often imagined what his first blowjob would be like. Of course he liked to imagine some big, burly quarterback going down on him in bed, maybe throwing some dirty talk his way. He used to imagine those strong arms holding onto his hips, tongue running along the underside of his dick. Sometimes he’d imagine a Hollywood bad boy, the ones who wore torn leather jackets, a cigarette between their lips, a lighter in one hand and a knife in the other. The type of bad boy who’d ride a motorcycle and come from a tragic household, someone that Dwight could fix. He’d imagine that type of guy pinning him to a wall, looking him dead in the eyes with a smirk across his lips, letting him know exactly how he wanted to toy with Dwight. 

But in the end, Dwight always felt like his first blowjob would be with a woman. 

Despite being gay, he always figured that one day, he’d meet a girl, go on a few dates, get serious, then would evenuntally be encouraged by his parents and peers to propose. They’d get married, have a kid or two, then possibly get divorced. Then later down the road, he’d get remarried to a different woman, maybe have another kid and then would have a midlife crisis, and finally out himself to his whole family during thanksgiving dinner. Then after being rejected by his whole family, except for maybe one or two of his kids, he’d go through a major depression, and when all hope would be lost, either his oldest or youngest child would give him advice, wise beyond their years. After all of that, then maybe, just maybe, he’d finally marry a man, like how he wanted to do since the very beginning. At least that’s what he figured his life would turn out to be. 

However, now that he’s getting a blowjob on the forest floor by the man of his dreams, his head was spinning with pleasure and joy. He didn’t even realise he needed to cum until Jake sped up. Dwight helplessly moaned, pulling at Jake’s hair, with the sole intent to hold on for the ride. As if Jake knew, he somehow gained more speed. He twisted his hand and swirled his tongue insync, causing Dwight to convulse. Dwight was whining like a cat in heat, gasping and moaning as his stomach started to feel full. The timer was counting down fast and the end will be upon him soon.

“Jake,” he whined. “Jake, Jake I’m gonna cum.”

The other man continued to lick around him and suck him down. Dwight, by this time, was unable to keep his hips still, and bucked his hips up into Jake’s mouth. Dwight bit his wrist and clawed at the shirt he laid on. His thrusts became frantic, and suddenly Jake popped off him and pumped him until he completed. An orgasm tore through his body, his semen squirting free and landing on his stomach. His teeth clamped down on his wrist tightly, his teeth indenting his skin painfully. Though, Dwight preferred that over letting his voice be heard. His body trembled and convulsed, as if he was recovering from a seizure. He finally exhaled. He didn’t even know he was holding his breath until now. Through pants he finally regained his breath and opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and it took him a second to realise he must’ve knocked off his own glasses sometime during that experience of a lifetime. 

He felt something brush against his stomach, and he grabbed the glasses that were somehow in his hair. He pushed them down and looked at his stomach, to see Jake using one of his gloves to clean the cum from Dwight’s skin. Dwight flushed and flopped his head back on the ground. Jake let out a snicker and tossed the glove aside. Dwight sat up and reached for his briefs. He slipped the dark fabric over his ankles and pulled them up his legs, then lifted his hips to settle them in place. When the fabric was seated on his body, he grabbed his pants and repeated the process. Once his legs were covered, he layed back, choosing to stay shirtless. Jake laid down beside him, head off the scarf. Dwight shifted back and down slightly. Jake took the invitation and rested his head on the scarf and pulled Dwight to lay in his chest. The leader nuzzled into Jake, wrapping his arms around him and curling a leg around one of Jakes. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, a small smile present on his lips. 

"You know, I thought you were mad at me… because I yelled at you."

"Nah. I just got resting bitch face," Jake laughed. He shifted, moving to lay on his back. He pulled Dwight closer, slightly on top of him. Dwight took the opportunity without a second thought. He took off his glasses, being that they were poking him, and set them behind him. Then he shifted his arms down by Jake’s belly button and set his head on Jake’s peck. Without the thick parka on, Dwight could feel the muscular body Jake sported. He was warm and cozy, and Dwight’s eyes fluttered shut. Jake finger-brushed his hair, and he gave a soft, content hum. He kept smiling until his consciousness slowly began to drift. His head raised and lowered gently along with Jake’s breathing, as Jake too began to doze off. 

They stayed asleep for a long while, but when Jake finally awoke, Dwight was gone. At first he was worried, but then he realised the truth. A trial called. Jake sighed. The Entity never seemed to give Dwight a break. Dwight went through the most trials of any survivor, and not just because he was the first. It seemed like the Entity had an unfair choosing system, one that favored Dwight’s suffering. Jake took their things and walked off to camp. When Dwight returned, he gave him back his things. Of course Dwight scurried off with Meg to gush about what he and Jake did, Jake didn’t mind. In fact, he kinda found it cute, in its own, privacy invading sort of way. He was glad that Dwight wanted to talk about him, to brag about Jake. It made him feel special. 

As the day’s passed, the aching memory of Trapper faded. It was still there, neither man could forget about it, but the trauma of it subsided and made the memory less prominent. Dwight still hated Trapper with a burning passion, but so long as he didn’t see him, hear him, think about him or have him brought up in conversation, he was fine. Trials passed, and the grouping changed each time like normal. It took ages for Jake and Dwight to be partnered up in a trial again, but when they did, they wished that they hadn't. 

Dwight opened his eyes, and he found himself at coldwind farm. He looked around, already ready for a chainsaw to the back. Killers had a high chance of appearing in their own environment, and if that’s the case today, then he’d need to watch out for Hillbilly. Keeping his ears open, he began walking forward. He was surrounded by corn, so it didn’t take much guesswork to figure out he was in the cornfield. As he wandered about, he found a generator and got to work. He plucked some wires free and began the long process of connecting, disconnecting and rewiring basically everything. As he worked, he didn’t hear the quiet footsteps of someone approaching him until the corn shifted and somebody crouched next to him. 

“Jesus,” he whispered. “Kate you scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, already working. “Know what killer it is yet?”

“Not yet, but we are at the coldwind farm, could be Hillbilly, but could be anyone.”

“Right.”

They worked together and soon their generator popped on, and they dashed off. They didn’t want to stick around and wait for the killer to show up. As they ran they eventually found David Tapp, working on a generator himself. He looked to be a fourth of the way through. They crouched around the machine and started working, Dwight choosing to take this time to ask Tapp if he knew who the killer or other survivor was. Both questions he didn’t know the answer to. Dwight nodded and continued working, but before their generator popped off, a shadow formed over all them. Tapp blew the generator in shock, and the three survivors scattered like cockroaches as the killer thundered after them. Kate let out a shriek, as she stepped into one of the killer's traps, the teeth of it piercing through her skin and tasting her bone. Dwight sprinted up to her, body trembling as he cursed. Why did it have to be Trapper? 

Thankfully for Dwight and Kate, Trapper too was preoccupied with Tapp to even look in their direction. The sound of a generator in the distance popping on was also a good sign. Dwight gripped the bear trap and attempted to pry it open, but the trap was tough. Kate, between agonised sobs, put her hands on it too and together they forced it open, and she was able to pull her leg free. As soon as their limbs were away from it, they let it snap shut, its metal teeth clenched tightly. Dwight didn’t have a medical kit handy, so without a second thought, he tore the tie from around his neck and wrapped it around her wound. Kate tried her best to remain silent, but she just couldn’t. The pain pulsated through her whole body. 

It seemed like everything went to hell once they had her patched up. Tapp had gotten hooked, so as Dwight ran for the rescue, Kate got hooked. When he got Tapp down, he rushed over and saved Kate, only for Tapp to be hooked for a second time only minutes after. Another generator popped off, this one making three down. Dwight always kept mental count. He pointed Kate to a gen and insisted she worked while he went for the save. He still hadn’t seen the last survivor, but they seemed to be doing well. As Dwight ran up to Tapp, he saw the man fighting back the sinister advances of the Entity. With a burst of speed, Dwight sprinted for the man, but just as he wrapped his hands under David’s armpits, he let out a ‘gah’ sound and yelled one simple word; “duck”. 

Dwight flinched down, and right then, the Entities apedages snapped forward and plunged into Tapp, his blood spraying out and splattering onto Dwight. Dwight gagged and spat Tapps blood out of his mouth. He watched in defeat as Tapp’s body was carried up into the sky. He shook the pity from his head and pivoted on his heel. As he jogged to the generator Kate was at, he heard a male scream in agony in the distance. Dwight’s stomach dropped and he felt like puking. He recognized that scream, that voice. He turned to the direction of the scream, but was disoriented when he heard Kate scream as well. One of them must’ve landed in a beartrap, or both of them did, but now Dwight was left with a choice. Kate who was nearby? Or Jake? 

When he finally made it to Jake, he was slumped over, jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth with bone shattering strength. His brows were in knots and eyes squinted as he tried to pull the trap off his leg. Dwight cursed. Trapper always placed these damn things where you can't see them. This time it was right in the tall grass by a killer's shack. Dwight ran up to his boyfriend and placed his hands on the trap. As they tried to pull the teeth off Jake’s visibly broken leg, the Asian snapped his head up and pushed Dwight. Dwight looked at him confused, but Jake’s frightened eyes that were glued behind the leader told him everything he needed to know. When he turned around, Trapper was there, blood dripping down his overalls and his heinous grinning mask smiling down at them. 

**“Fag boys.”**

Before Dwight could even think of what to do, Jake grabbed him painfully hard on the arm and forced Dwight to his feet. Jake yelled a simple command, “run!”

And Dwight did. 

He ran as fast as he could, but before he was out of sight, he stopped. His stomach was turning and the urge to vomit was growing. With wide eyes, he watched Jake and the killer. Trapper grabbed a fistful of Jake’s hair, causing the survivor to wince, his face tightening in further pain. Dwight could tell the killer was speaking, but he was too far away to hear. Something in Dwight changed. His stomach continued to twist, but his arms and legs felt light and weak. His head was spinning and his heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but agony in Jake’s face did something. It burned. Burned like fire, leaving a nasty scar in Dwight’s heart. Something boiled inside, and Dwight started running again, but this time he didn’t flee. He charged forward, body slamming Trapper into the killer's shack, making the walls rumble. 

Trapper dropped Jake upon being impacted. He reflexively shoved Dwight onto his ass, and he fell with a hard thud. Trapper cocked his head to the side, staring down at Dwight like that trail so long ago. Trapper was full of strength and power, and Dwight was vulnerable and afraid. However, in this moment, his fear didn’t hinder him. He stood up and faced the killer. He tried to hide the look of fear in his eyes, but Trapper knows fear like he knows his own hands. Familiar. Jake remained on the ground, looking between the two men with uncertainty. It looked like a showdown was about to begin, and that was the last thing he would ever want. Dwight could never win a fight against the killer. No survivor could. It would be suicide. 

“Leave him alone,” Dwight tried to speak with authority, but the squeak in his voice was audible to all. The sound of the Entity consuming a death filled the air, and Dwight’s eyes widened. He left Kate. She must’ve bled out. 

**“What’s the matter fagboy? Don’t like me playing with your boyfriend?”**

Dwight shivered. The f-slur was something he’s been called before, even before he came out. Middle school is one hell of a time, but it was different with Trapper. It didn’t seem like he said it because he was personally homophobic. After all, the man jerked off to the two men. It seemed like he said it to hurt Dwight. 

“Leave him alone,” Dwight repeated, this time with more authority. 

**“Why should I, boy? Not like you could do anything about it, little boy.”**

Dwight’s lips were tightly sealed. He was acting on instinct. He had no clue what to do. His eyes darted down to Jake, who had the trap nearly pried off his legs, but what a mistake looking down was. Trapper, within an instant, followed Dwight’s gaze and slashed at Jake’s arms, making the trap spring shut again and him howling out in pain. Something slammed into Trapper. He thumped against the wall and whatever slammed into him pounded at his chest, kicking and screaming. Jake, with tears in his eyes, looked up and saw Dwight attacking Trapper. 

“You motherfucker! Bastard!” Dwight screamed, slamming his fists onto Trappers chest. He hit him with all his might, but Trapper didn’t seem pained at all. In fact, the killer let out a hardy laugh. 

**“That’s right boy,”** Trapper mocked. **“Keep going, feel’s like a massage.”**

“Fuck you!” Dwight barked, the rage in his system finally making him cry. Tears fell from his eyes as he continued striking the killer. “I hate you! Fuck you, you fucker! I hate you! I fucking hate you! I hate you!”

Dwight’s voice trailed off into a pained sob as his attack on Trapper persisted. Jake watched in pain as he saw Dwight falling apart. Trapper wasn’t even fighting back. Dwight, despite using all his might, Trapper was just too strong, and it showed. Trapper's smile never fell as Dwight continued to rant. A tear ran down Jake’s cheek. He couldn’t stand seeing Dwight like this. There was no way they were making it out alive. He grit his teeth and grabbed the trap again. He had to get out. He had to stop Dwight, had to protect him. He has to. 

Trapper let out a grunt of pain and slammed his fist into Dwight, knocking him flat on his back. Though the action knocked the wind out of the leader's lungs, he realised that he hurt Trapper. Jake recognized the sound of pain too and looked up at the killer. Trapper clenched his right arm, fingers weaved between one of the metal spikes jutting from his skin. He was keened over slightly, and Dwight bounded up and grabbed another spike. He gripped it tightly and shook it. He yanked and pulled at, and Trapper let out a shout of agony. Dwight’s attack grew more aggressive. He clawed at the man, even going as far as to bite him until he tasted the Trappers blood. Jake stared in disbelief. Dwight… was hurting Trapper. He was attacking him fearlessly, and actually inflicting pain on the deadly killer. Trapper fisted Dwight’s hair and yanked his head back, earning a cry from the survivor. He dropped him on his back and cracked his own knuckles. 

**“You just made a mistake.”**

Before Dwight could do anything, Trapper was already on top of him. His massive hands kept the small man down. Dwight kicked and screamed, and Jake was doing his best to free himself. His leg was in so much miserable pain, so much agony, but he had to save his boyfriend. He couldn’t just sit back and watch him die! The killer gripped Dwight’s throat with one hand and pushed down. Dwight’s legs flailed, hands shooting up to try and pry the killers hand away. All the air was torn from his lungs and they were on fire. His body spasmed. His entire nervous system was screaming ‘danger! Danger!’

**“Fag boys like you need to be put in their place.”**

Suddenly the pressure on Dwight’s neck was gone, and he was only able to take in one deep breath before Trappers fist slammed into the side of his face, his nose cracking upon impact. Blood flung from Dwight’s nose and he screamed. His glasses flew off his face and the hand that was previously on his neck returned. His movements were more frantic now, knowing the game Trapper was playing. Tears freely fell from his eyes as he scratched at the killers skin, nails digging until blood poured from the both of them. His face turned purple before Trapper let him go again. A fist came down on his cheek, and it struck him again and again, fracturing the bone. 

Jake let out a scream as the trap snapped back down on his leg. He was so close to being free. Sobs finally began to wreck him. He was crying like crazy. The pain was tolerable, but watching Dwight being brutally attacked was ripping his heart out, one vein at a time. He grabbed the trap again. He was determined to get free. Even as Dwight begged for mercy from the killer, the killer didn’t stop. He grabbed the nerds arm and flipped him onto his stomach. He bent his arm behind his back and with a swift motion, dislocated his shoulder. Dwight shrieked out in pain, a sob destroying his throat, but the killer didn’t stop there. He snapped Dwight’s forearm like a chopstick, and grabbed the bone that was now visible. 

**“Not so nice is it, faggot?”**

Trapper continued to yank and pull at Dwight’s bone. Blood gushed from his body like a red wave. Dwight choked on his saliva. The oxygen in his lungs was stolen, he couldn’t breath. He could feel the blood from his nose running down the innards of his throat. His body was on fire, and every injury lit up like a gas fire mixed with water and grease. Trapper grabbed Dwight’s hair and slammed his face into the dirt. He lifted Dwight’s head and slammed him back down again. Dwight’s non broken arm came up in a weak attempt to defend himself, but it did nothing as the killer continued to bash Dwight into the ground. He didn’t stop until Dwight didn’t struggle anymore, and didn’t let out a single sound. He pulled Dwight’s head back up and brought his face close to the survivors. 

**“Don’t die on me yet boy, I’m not through with you,”** Trapper growled before dropping Dwight’s head. It flopped nearly lifelessly back on the dirt. He let out a single, weak cough. Trapper walked away a few feet and picked something up from the ground. A bear trap. The stomped back and placed the trap a foot in front of Dwight’s head. The trap was set, and Jake began to scream. 

“Don’t fucking touch him! Leave him alone!” Jake screamed, tears still running down his face. “Don’t do it!”

 **“Time you faggot’s learned a lesson,”** Trapper spoke. Jake grit his teeth and persisted with trying to open the trap. The teeth fought him, trying their best to stay put in his bone. He groaned, using every last bit of his might to free himself. With a yank, he pulled his leg out, but it flicked his skin back before clamping back down on his foot. He shouted and pried it open again. This time, he was finally able to remove his leg and foot completely from the devils device. He was finally free. His blood formed a pool beneath him, but he was free. He snapped his head up to Dwight and Trapper, but he was too late. 

The killer grabbed Dwight’s hair and slammed him face first into the bear trap, killing him instantly. His skull snapped and parts of his brain squirted out. Jake cried out. He tried to stand, but his leg was far too broken from all his attempts at escape. He failed Dwight. Dwight tried to protect him, but he got killed, and Jake did nothing. He failed. He crawled back, tears and snot gushing down his face. Trapper rose to his feet, staring down at his handiwork. Dwight’s body was limp, his blood turning into a massive pool around him. Trapper stepped on Dwight’s back and chuckled, before turning his attention to the remaining, albeit sobbing, survivor. He cracked his neck and shoulders as he approached. 

Why did Dwight do that? Why didn’t he just run when Jake told him to? If he would’ve just listened to Jake he wouldn’t have gotten moried. He’d still be okay. Jake crawled back, trying to gain distance between him and the killer, but it obviously didn’t do much. Trapper was walking up to him, slowly. Mocking him. Trapper had Jake. There was nothing that the survivor could do. He was doomed. Jake closed his eyes, ready for Trappers wrath to fall upon him, but a thought struck him. Dwight acted so stupidly because he loves him. He was willing to die for Jake, not because he was being stupid by choice. He did it to protect him. Something about that thought made Jake open his eyes. Even though he was about to get beaten to death, he couldn’t stop the fluttering feeling in his heart. As long as he had Dwight, everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie-zowie that was a lot! Took me literal days to complete but I really really hope you guys liked it! I tried really hard! 
> 
> Sorry my posts have been delayed. I've been trying to get into college and there's been some complications. It's been kinda stressing me out, but things will be fine. On that note though, chapters may come at a slower pace, and I want to apologize in advance for that. I am still working on multiple chapters, one of which is the Nea x Meg one. I know some of you are really looking forward to it. I'm a little blocked on it, but I don't want to rush it. I want to give you guys my best work, and if I am to do that, I need to take time. Thank you for understanding! 
> 
> Anyways, requests are still open, as always. All requests will be put on my list and if I like it, I will get to it when I can! This chapter was also actually a request! Someone wanted Dwight to be naked and for Jake to remain clothed. So hopefully I did the request justice! 
> 
> If you'd like to see more of my artwork, little sneak peaks of future chapters or dumb jokes of mine, you can check out my tumblr. I don't have much on it yet, but I'll be posting on their more frequently! My tumblr is "Lefthandersruletheworld", or if you'd prefer a link, here's one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/lefthandersruletheworld 
> 
> Anyways, thank you all again for reading, and I look forward to reading your comments and just generally interacting with you guys. 
> 
> I hope you all are doing well and staying safe. I'll see you again next time!


	12. Dwight x Jake: Lover Boy (Part 5: Finale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memory of Trapper has been haunting Jake, but thankfully, he has Dwight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this! I'm really proud of it. I basically wrote it all in one day, so hopefully it's not too bad lol.

When you’re in a relationship, communication is key. It's important to be able to speak freely, about your thoughts and feelings, or about past conflicts and so on. If you can’t, all those things will bubble and boil inside, swelling over time, and without warning, it will explode. Drama and chaos could form, and will break the relationship down to nothing. Of course it’s not a guarantee, but it’s extremely likely. That, of course, makes sense. How are you supposed to preserve a relationship with someone if you can’t even talk to them? Without communication, a relationship is doomed to go down in flames. 

But right now, Jake and Dwight don’t want to talk about it. 

Ever since the last trial with Trapper, both men have kept their mouths tightly shut. They haven’t told a soul, and hardly have discussed it with the other. The day of the trial, Jake did ask Dwight why he acted so stupid, why he did what he did. Dwight offered him a simple ‘because I love you’, and that was the end of it. They haven’t talked about it more, now it’s just dust under the rug. Something to be brought up again, but no time soon. As days or presumably weeks passed, Dwight moved on from the experience, or so it seemed. For Jake however, he was still haunted by the memory. 

Never in his life, had he felt so helpless. He’s been murdered a million times and put at the mercy of many killers, but that terrible trial was something else. He could still feel the phantom pain in his leg as he desperately tried to pry his leg free from the trap, his body spasming as he choked on his tears. The sight of Dwight’s face getting slammed into the dirt over and over, blood and grime smearing on his already busted face. The sound of Dwight’s desperate cries and agonized screams. Even when Jake was living with his father, the verbal abuse with the occasional strike to the cheek, nothing had ever made him feel weaker, more useless. He’d never felt more like… nothing, than he did that cursed day. 

As he keeps his arm wrapped tightly around his sleeping boyfriend at the campfire, he can’t shake the guilt from his heart. He rested his cheek on the top of Dwight’s head, feeling his hair tickle his nose. It wasn’t enough to make him pull away, quite the contrary really. He needed to be close to Dwight, he needed to feel him against his body. He needed him. His heart felt so swollen he felt like crying, though he’d never do that in front of a crowd. Normally Jake would have his eyes closed as he rested with his boyfriend, but each time his lids fell shut, Dwight’s broken arm filled his vision, or his brain oozing from his snapped skull, or the sobs that wrecked his throat, or-

“Jake?”

Jake snapped out of his haze and glanced down at his boyfriend. Dwight’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at the Asian American. His tired eyes were heavy, but concerned. His body shifted slightly as he tried to get the sleep out of him. Dwight asked him a simple question, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jake lied. “Why?”

“You’re breathing weird,” Dwight muttered, eye’s leaving Jake’s and trailing down to his lips. Jake forced a small grin and gave him a chaste peck. 

“I’m fine.”

“M’kay,” Dwight sighed and leaned in further into Jake as he drifted off again. It’s not that Dwight is extremely gullible or that Jake is a great liar, which he is, it’s just that Dwight is really tired. He had a long trial. He spent it with the Nurse, trying to outrun her and psyche her out while others completed generators. It was a long, strenuous trial for him, one that landed him on death hook as everyone else was able to escape. Trials like that were a nightmare. Where you try so hard and die anyways. Those were the worst. Like with Trapper… Jake clenched his face. He needed to get that out of his head, but no matter how hard he tried, it always resurfaced. As time passed, Dwight had healed from the experience, as far as Jake could tell, but Jake still felt bitter and pained. One day as they sat together off in the woods, he finally broke. He caved in. 

“I don’t understand,” Dwight admitted, watching his boyfriend look furious. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, yes… I dunno,” Jake blabbered, cheeks and eyes pink and brows furrowed tighter than Dwight had ever seen. Jake looked like he was about to snap someone's neck. Dwight hoped he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of it, though he knew he wouldn’t be. 

“What did I do?”

“Fucking… why didn’t you listen to me?”

“Listen to what?” Dwight tipped his head to the side. Their previous conversation was rather casual, all they were really discussing was past trials and funny things that happened in them, and suddenly Jake’s composure shattered like glass. 

“With Trapper, why didn’t you leave when I told you to?”

“You’re… you're still thinking about that?”

“I never stopped,” Jake huffed. 

“I’m sorry,” Dwight breathed as he sat on a fallen tree. “I-I… I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just… why didn’t you leave?”

“Because I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could’ve-”

“No Jake,” he stopped him. They locked eyes and Jake was shocked when Dwight didn’t look like he’d back down. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave you behind, Jake. I… what kinda boyfriend would I be if I let you deal with… with that _thing_ by yourself.”

“But you got hurt.”

“I get hurt all the time Jake, it doesn’t matter, I-”

“It matters to me,” Jake practically growled. It was then when Dwight finally understood. He stopped their mini argument and paused. His wide, open eyes met with Jake’s narrow, upset ones. He thought for a brief moment, and once his brain had all the information he needed, he rose to his feet and walked up to Jake. He gently placed his hands on his shoulders, thumbing over the seam of his clothes. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you.”

Jake’s face softened and his eyebrows twisted upwards, “I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Dwight kissed him. A pit formed in his belly. He couldn’t imagine the terror Jake felt to actually admit he was scared. Dwight couldn’t imagine what he would’ve felt if it had been Jake at Trappers mercy, and he who was caught in that damned bear trap. He pulled his boyfriend into a hug and kissed his neck. “I never meant to worry you, I just didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“If that ever happens again, you leave when I tell you to,” Jake sniffled, making the pit grow. 

“I-”

“Promise me Dwight,” Jake pushed him out of the hug, locking his hands tightly on his boyfriend's shoulders. Their eyes met and Jake’s eyes were pinker than before, a shiny strip down his cheek. 

“You’re asking a lot from me.” 

“I don’t care. If shit goes south, promise me you’ll get the fuck out of there and be safe.”

“I-,” Dwight tried to begin protesting.

“Promise me,” Jake persisted. “I know you want to save me or help me or whatever, but I can’t go through that again. It keeps playing in my head like a movie, over and over again, and I just can’t take it anymore. Please Dwight, for me, promise if shit goes south you’ll leave when I say.”

“I…,” Dwight looked down at their feet. “I’ll try.”

“I suppose that’s the best I’ll get,” Jake muttered, resting one of his hands on Dwight’s cheek. He thumbed over the bone, still haunted by the blood that covered it so long ago. He leaned forward and kissed Dwight’s cheekbone, then his forehead, temple, nose, cheek and then finally his lips. He could practically feel Dwight melting under his lips, feeling his knees knock against his own. Jake looked into Dwight’s beautiful brown eyes and pulled him in for a tight hug. It was more for Jake than it was for Dwight. He really needed a hug. Dwight didn’t hesitate to hug him back. He nuzzled his head into Jake’s scarf, taking in his scent. Jake spoke out three words. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Dwight backed away and tried to get more of Jake’s kisses. He kissed the saboteur, teeth softly biting his lower lip. He could feel Jake’s lip curl upwards, smiling at that action. He grabbed Dwight’s hips and pulled him closer. He froze for half a second when he felt Dwight’s tongue slipping past his lips and into his mouth. He grabbed a handful of Dwight’s ass with one hand and gripped his hair with the other. Dwight let out a mewling sound, and Jake could feel his groin getting hard. Their tongues rolled against each other, saliva mixing and hot breath puffing. Their hands roamed, and Dwight’s hands found their way to Jake’s parka, specifically it’s zipper. Dwight paused from the kissing to look at the zipper. He flicked his eyes back to Jake, asking for permission, and when Jake smiled, he eagerly slipped it off and dropped the jacket on the forest floor. 

“I love it when you get like this,” Jake breathed out in a husky voice, taking his scarf off. The fabric fell to the ground and just as he was about to whisper another dirty phrase, Dwight pushed him against a tree. Jake’s eyes widened and he stared at his boyfriend. Dwight’s cheeks were flushed, but there was a look in his eyes that stole the air from his lungs. 

“I want to go all the way,” Dwight said in a hushed voice. Dwight’s voice was deep, deeper than Jake’s ever heard it, and it sent fire straight to his groin. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then, who am I to say no,” Jake laughed. He took off Dwight’s tie, followed by his shirt. When Dwight’s chest was exposed, Jake squeezed one of his pecks, thumbing over his nipple with a smile on his lips. “This is gonna sound weird, but I love your nipples.”

“I hope that’s endearing and not a ‘I love them because I find them funny’.”

“It’s endearing. They’re cute,” Jake grinned a little wider. He lowered his head, slowly falling to his knees. Dwight sucked in a breath when he felt Jake’s tongue against his nipple. He shuttered, feeling Jake suck it into his mouth and roll his tongue against it in slow, tender circles. 

“I-fuck~” Dwight whined. 

“Fuck I love it when you do that,” Jake breathed before moving over to his other nipple. Before he could take it into his mouth however, Dwight suddenly pushed him away. Jake looked up at him confused. His boyfriend's face was flushed, not the darkest he’s seen, but definitely getting there. 

“I… I’ve been thinking of s-something… I… I kinda wanna do it...”

“What?”

“Stand up,” Dwight spoke with authority. Something about Dwight’s occasional demand sent chills down Jake’s spine. Dwight was so soft all the time, that when he finally decided to get authoritative, it was hypnotic. Jake was helpless as he obeyed. Dwight pushed him against the tree once again, and much to Jake’s shock, he grabbed the rim of his black t-shirt and lifted it off him. Now with Jake exposed, Dwight’s breath got caught in his chest. His eyes glued onto so many different places on Jake’s skin. This was the first time he’s seen him shirtless, and it was like God himself crafted his body out of marble and stone. Faintly toned abs, brown nipples, skin so soft and a trial of black hairs leading down into his pants. 

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Not really,” Jake shrugged. 

Dwight fell to his knees and brought his hands up. His eyes flicked up to Jake's, asking for permission, and Jake being curious as ever, nodded. Dwight placed his hands on Jake's hips and leaned forward and kissed just above his navel. Jake took in a quiet breath as he watched Dwight kiss his stomach, working his way up until he got to one of Jake’s nipples. He timidly licked it, before mimicking Jake’s actions from earlier and sucking down on it. Jake’s knees buckled, but he was able to remain standing. He was transfixed on Dwight’s face. Eye’s closed and lips sealed around his sensitive nub. When his hand began to tease his other nipple, he let out a breath. 

“Oh wow- that’s what that feels like? Shit-”

Encouraged by Jake’s words, Dwight’s tongue swirled around his nipple with more aggression, a roughness that Jake immensely enjoyed. When he felt Dwight bite him with mild force, he couldn’t stop the quiet groan that forced its way out his throat. Dwight licked away from the now pert and heated nipple. He bit softly at the skin by Jake’s ribs, then over his abs, under his belly button, then his lower abdomen. Jake by this point was reduced to silent pants. It was growing increasingly harder to stand. 

Dwight’s eyes locked onto Jake’s crotch, and he looked up to Jake. The Asian American nodded feverishly and Dwight kissed Jake’s cock through his pants. It forced a moan from his lips. Fire flooded into Dwight and he quickly unzipped the pants and shucked them down. Jake’s buffalo plaid underwear hid his dick, but not by much. Dwight could very clearly see the shape of Jake’s head and the wetness that soaked the front of his underwear. Dwight let out an aroused sigh and fumbled for a moment. Jake noticed this and watched. Dwight’s face was now extremely dark. The tips of his shoulders were flushed pink, and Jake couldn’t help but smile like some cheeky teen. 

“You okay?”

“I-uh… Yeah. I just-”

“Did you change your mind?”

“No-no, I just… thought of something...”

“What?” Jake asked. Dwight pondered for a moment, before grabbing his tie. A string of confusion ran up Jake, but he didn’t speak up. He simply watched as Dwight held it for a moment, clearly trying to decide if he should do whatever it is he has in mind. It became apparent that he made up his mind because he suddenly removed his glasses and set them aside on a rock, far out of the way. He settled onto his knees again in front of Jake and looked at the blurry tie in his hands before raising it up to his face. As he tied it around his head, Jake was shocked when he understood. Dwight was blindfolding himself. When Dwight was finished, Jake questioned, “what's that for?”

“I don’t wanna get nervous. If I can't see things, I won’t feel so embarrassed.”

“Because of me?”

“No. I just… I dunno. I always feel like I gotta keep an eye out for everything. I guess.”

“Don’t want the crows watching, gotcha,” Jake let out a breathy laugh. He knew that Dwight was meaning a human, or killer. He’s like a twitchy mouse. He’s always keeping an eye out for some mangy cat. Even though Jake felt guilty, guilty that Dwight has to live with such constant and chronic anxiety, he did enjoy the sight below him. Dwight on his knees, shirtless and blindfolded. It was a little piece of heaven in this place of hell. 

Dwight’s hands blindlessly searched for a moment, accidentally grabbing a handful of Jake’s dick. It caused the Asian to let out a surprised grunt. Dwight flinched back for a moment before settling his hands on Jake’s hips. He rubbed his hands up and down, feeling the soft texture of Jake’s boxers. Dwight wouldn't mind wearing a pair of these, they felt extremely comfortable. He ran his hands closer together, and shucked the front of Jake’s underwear down. He felt something wet flick his nose for a moment, then got impossibly darker when he realized that happened. Jake’s chest was burning. He could hardly breath. Dwight was so close to his cock. The anticipation was killing him, and it didn’t help that Dwight was moving at a snail's pace, but Jake willed himself into being patient. 

Dwight’s hand fingered through Jake’s pubic hair before finding his aching dick. His fingers were cold, but the burn felt nice against Jake’s boiling skin. A finger traced up his dick, all the way to his head, rubbing into his slit. Jake tipped his head back and let out a silent shutter. Dwight touched his chin with his thumb, never moving his index finger from Jake’s precum leaking head. He blindlessly measured the distance between his face and Jake’s cock, and when he was confident, he moved in, planting a slow, soft kiss on the underside of his head. Jake’s voice wanted to bubble free as his knees shook, but he bit it back. He locked his hands onto the tree he leaned on, nails digging into the bark. 

Dwight kissed his cock head again, then again, and soon Jake lost count of how many times he kissed him on his most heated body part. Dwight passionately licked his slit, tongue digging into it slightly before rolling around the entire tip. He wrapped his lips around Jake’s head and began to swirl his tongue around him and suck him hard. Jake’s voice was forced out, and he let out a high pitched keen. He snapped his hand over his mouth, unconsciously sliding down the tree, inch by inch. Dwight was so good at this, there was no way it was his first time giving a blowjob, there was no way. Jake’s given quite a few blowjobs, but they were nothing compared to what Dwight was doing to him. As Dwight licked him like a lollipop, Jake’s knees were trembling like mad, but when Dwight began to take him deeper, he had to push him away. 

“I need to sit down,” Jake panted. “Fuck you’re so good at this.”

“I am?” Dwight asked with genuine shock. “I didn’t think I was doing anything right.”

When Jake plopped onto the ground, he adjusted into an elevated laying position and pet Dwight’s hair. He gripped his hair and gently pulled him, showing him where he's at now. “You’re fuckin’ great, please, keep going.”

Jake didn’t have to ask twice, because Dwight already took him into his mouth. With his lips and tongue, he formed a powerful tunnel. He bobbed his head slowly, but the intense suction was making Jake’s legs tremble. It was a good thing he opted to rest his legs now, because he probably would’ve fell down. He’s never felt this good before. Dwight’s tongue mapped out Jake’s cock, finding every vein and sweet spot. Occasionally he’d pop off to suck the underside of Jake’s cock, right between his head and base. Jake was dripping, and when Dwight could feel more precum dripping out of him, he rolled his palm over his head then gripped his cock with perfect force. He gave him slow, tight pumps, and Jake could only pant along for the journey. When Dwight’s mouth and hand joined forces, Jake couldn’t keep his voice back. He let out low moans with occasional high pitched whines. 

He had no clue how long Dwight was sucking him down. Jake felt like his cock was being worshiped with how good he felt. Good wasn’t even the right word. Great was too weak. There was no word in the English vocabulary that could describe this. His hand was knotted into Dwight’s hair as he bobbed him up and down. Dwight was surprisingly taking him down to the back of his throat with just his mouth. He occasionally gagged, but he was in full control. He always knew his oral fixation would come in handy one day. The speed Dwight was moving at, along with his expert mouth at work, was driving Jake to the end of the road. He was so close to coming, but he wanted to make love to Dwight, and begrudgingly, Jake doesn't have great recovery time. As heartbreaking as it was for him, he had to pull Dwight off him. His hips involuntarily rolled up, trying to get more of Dwight. His cock brushed against Dwight’s chin and throat, but he couldn’t allow him to continue. 

“I’m gonna cum, give me a sec.”

“Was I doing okay?”

“I’ve never had a blowjob that good before.”

“You’re just saying that,” Dwight pouted. 

“No, I’m so serious. You’re so good Dwight,” Jake slowly sat up. His cock was furious with him. It wanted to climax so bad but he couldn’t allow it yet. “I almost came like three times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You said you wanted to go all the way.”

“So you held back,” Dwight questioned with a pleased smile. “I was just gonna wait till you could get hard again.”

“You’re like a fuckin’ succubus, if I would’ve came you would’ve sucked my soul along with it.”

Dwight let out a hardy laugh. He was so caught off guard with Jake’s sense of humor sometimes. He loved it. Dwight slid his makeshift blindfold off, vision blurrier than normal. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Jake. Though he was also a blur, he could tell that Jake was fighting the urge to jerk off. Dwight crawled over to him, hands on the ground on either side of Jake’s hips. He leaned in for a kiss, but froze. Jake looked at him confused. 

“Sorry, I almost forgot where my mouth wa-” Dwight was interrupted by Jake’s tongue in his mouth. Jake kissed him deeply, their tongues rolling against each other like two snakes mating. He sucked on his tongue before backing away. 

“I don’t mind it.”

“You kinky bitch,” Dwight let out a shocked and turned on breath. 

“You ain't seen nothing yet pretty boy,” Jake nearly growled. Dwight chuckled and moved to straddle Jake, but grew too shy. Instead he sat back on his haunches as Jake tucked himself away temporarily. He kicked off his socks and shoes, then wiggled out of his pants as Dwight spoke. 

“I’m not what I’d define as ‘pretty’ but okay.”

“I’m not what I’d define as ‘hot’ but okay,” he retorted.

“Touché,” Dwight chuckled. As soon as Jake was out of his pants he folded them up and set them aside. 

“So… you sure you wanna go all the way?”

Dwight nodded. 

“Because if you don’t want to, we don’t have to. Or if you change your mind-”

“Jake… are you nervous?”

“I,” Jake stammered. “Yeah.”

“Why? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?”

“Well, yeah, but… I’m not losing anything...” he shrugged. “I just want you to be sure you want me… this. That you want this.”

Dwight shifted closer and placed his hands on Jake’s bare shoulders. His fingers traced along his heated skin and he made small circles. He leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. It was slow, loving. Tender lips pressed against each other. Jake let out a sigh and tipped his head to the side, leaning more into it. When Dwight parted from the kiss, he cupped a hand on the back of Jake's head, feeling his greasy, tangled hair in his palm. The wiry texture of his hair has become something that the leader loves. 

“Before we started dating, all I could think about was being close with you. Now that I’m here, I don’t wanna ever back down,” Dwight muttered, voice honest and low. “If you knew how many times I imagined having sex with you, you’d probably think I’m a freak.”

“Lucky for you, I like getting freaky,” Jake forced a joke out. He was captivated by his boyfriend, his words were like a beautiful melody. Jake feared if he didn’t make a joke, he would fall victim to Dwight’s lullaby, and he’d never be able to escape. Though, he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to. The honesty that Dwight was speaking with was daunting, but definitely not a turn off. It was rare for Dwight to be so emotionally open about sexual stuff, or anything really. Jake wrapped his hands around Dwight’s hips and pulled him closer. “I’ve thought about having sex with you a lot too.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm,” Jake grinned like a demon. With a carefully plucked brow, he leaned closer to Dwight, making his boyfriend lean back. He kept closing the distance until Dwight was lying on his back and Jake was above him, straddling his legs and hands on either side of his head. He dipped his head by his lover's ear and whispered, “I’ve thought about laying you down, taking you all night long.”

“Yeah~?” Dwight tried not to shiver. 

“Your legs on my shoulders, arms around my neck.”

“Fuck, Jake,” Dwight whined. “I want that so bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

“Let's make things more comfortable then,” Jake muttered before climbing off Dwight. He didn’t fail to notice Dwight’s obvious bulge in his pants and the way Dwight let out a long breath. He rolled off his back and stood up. Together both of the men made a comfortable place for them to go all the way. Jake’s parka was laid down flat on the ground, acting like a bed or bed sheet. His pants were folded, and they wrapped his scarf around it to cover the button and zipper. It would act as a makeshift pillow. Dwight’s shirt and tie were folded and tucked by their ‘pillow,’ and Jake took Dwight’s pants, shoes and socks off. This left both men in their underwear. The remaining clothes were folded and cast aside. The two of them settled onto their knees on the makeshift bed and were about to start their adult activities, but something came flying out of the forest and struck Dwight in the back of the head. 

“Ow!” Dwight exclaimed, clasping a hand over the spot that was hit. 

“Are you okay!?” 

“Yeah… but what the hell was that!?”

“I dunno,” Jake frowned and looked around. It only took a second to spot what struck Dwight, and when he spotted it Jake felt his stomach drop with confusion. “What the fuck?”

“What is it?”

“Lube.”

“What!?” Dwight shrieked. “Let me see!”

Jake held the bottle close to Dwight’s face so the blind man could make out the shape. Sure enough, it was lube. Just as Dwight was about to accuse another survivor of watching them, he noticed an odd shape sticking out from the bottles label. 

“What’s that,” he asked while pointing at it. Jake turned the bottle to face him and noticed it too. It was a small piece of paper sticking out from behind the label. He pulled the paper out and unfolded it. As Jake’s eyes scanned the words in front of him, he both felt confusion and anger. 

“What does it say?”

“It says ‘enjoy it while it lasts’, from the Entity,” Jake spoke in a dark tone. The two pondered that the Entity meant, but little did they know the Entity considered itself to be quite fair. Dwight had suffered greatly under its care. The misery he often feels is enough to feed the monster, so as a reward, it decided to give a gift to the two men. The duo debated on continuing, and they almost decided against it, but their previous hornyness and the added lube was just too great to turn down. Jake gently pushed Dwight down on their ‘bed’ and crawled above him. He planted feather-like kisses on his face, neck, chest and stomach. Dwight knotted his hand into the parka beneath him and let out a sigh. Jake hiked down his underwear and tossed them aside with the rest of the clothes. Dwight, now exposed, flushed, but unlike the last time they were this intimate, he didn’t cover himself. 

“Is it okay if I finger you?” 

“Totally,” Dwight smiled, but then blushed darker. He covered his face, internally cursing himself for the lewd tone of voice he just gave. “I-uh-y-yeah. That’s fine.”

“You’re so cute,” Jake chuckled and squirted the liquid onto his fingers. He smeared it around them, making sure they were thoroughly coated. As much as he’d hate to admit, the lube was nice. He grabbed one of Dwight’s thighs and pulled it open. Dwight mirrored his action with his other leg, spreading them open for Jake. He felt so exposed and embarrassed, but he wanted Jake so bad. Jake kissed him, licking his neck and sucking down on it. He pulled Dwight’s legs to wrap around his torso, and panted out in a low voice, “it might hurt a little.”

“I trust you.”

Butterflies fluttered inside Jake, and he had to choke them down. He continued to kiss Dwight’s soft, yet chapped lips as his fingers found his hole. Dwight took in a breath, and Jake slowly eased his finger in. The groan his boyfriend let out sent a throb straight to his groin. Dwight was tight, his body squeezing his finger hard. The perverted side of Jake imagined what it would be like when he finally penetrates him, but he shook it out of his head for now. He made a slow thrust with his finger, trying to get Dwight to loosen up. Both down there, but also everywhere. His thighs were flexed hard and he was holding his breath. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just… weird.”

“Bad?”

“No, just weird.”

“Should I stop?”

“No,” Dwight shook his head, cupping his hand on the back of Jake's neck. “Please don’t stop.”

“Okay,” Jake whispered as he continued to give him slow thrusts with his finger. He occasionally curled his finger, trying to ease the tension in Dwight’s body. Dwight was overall quiet, just trying to focus on breathing and relaxing. Thousands of trials take its toll on survivors, and Dwight is no exception. When it felt right, a second finger was eased in and Dwight groaned. He bit his lip as he watched Jake work him open. He could feel Jake’s fingers scissoring and curling, and after a while a warm, wonderful feeling flooded his senses. He let out a moan, and Jake’s ears practically perked up like a dog. He tipped his head to the side and nudged that nerve again, and Dwight whimpered in pleasure. 

Jake continued to tease that spot, letting Dwight’s body come undone by his hand and loosen up. He sucked down on Dwight’s neck, letting pink marks decorate his skin and he licked along his jaw. Dwight locked his lips onto Jake’s, his hands roaming widely, squeezing Jake’s biceps and shoulder blades. The fingers inside him continued to rhythmically tap that godlike spot and he couldn’t help but pant and moan. He tried to seal his lips shut to silence himself, but whenever he did, Jake would smother him with kisses that made his head spin. When the third finger forced inside, a strangled moan broke free from the nerds chest. Three fingers was a lot, but somehow he wanted, no, needed more. Jake abruptly slammed his fingers in him, all the way down to his knuckles and pushed his prostate hard, and Dwight spasmed in pleasure. 

“Oh God Jake,” he whined. “Fuck me please, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure,” Jake teased, giving him another hard thrust. 

“Yes, yes! Please Jake, I need it.”

What kind of boyfriend would Jake be if he ignored Dwight’s plea? Like a good boyfriend, he obeyed. Sliding his fingers out, he kissed Dwight deeply before grabbing the bottle of lube again. He squirted some more into his palm and snapped the lid shut before tossing the bottle over his shoulder. Jerking his dick a few times to wetten it, he stared into Dwight’s eyes. This was it. He was going to take Dwight's virginity. The last thing Dwight can say he has. In the future, when Dwight looks back to his first time, he’ll remember Jake above him. The Asian prayed the memory will be looked back at fondly, cherished even. Once his dick was wet enough, he scooted closer to his nerd, thighs pressed against him. He lifted his hips slightly so the two of them could meet. He grabbed his dick, pressing his cock head against Dwight’s throbbing entrance. 

“Are you sure?” Jake looked up at him. Dwight nodded, his enthusiasm showing. He grabbed stray fabric above his head and held his breath. Jake couldn’t help but warn, “it’s probably gonna hurt.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try and be gentle. Stop me if I hurt you.”

“I will.”

With that, Jake pressed his dick in, practically slicing its way inside. The movement was slow, but it still felt sharp to the inexperienced nerd. He winced in pain, but tried to get his body to stay loose. Jake pushed in deeper, his hips involuntarily rolling forward. His cock was being engulfed in erotic, fiery heat. Dwight’s ass gripped him like a gorilla fist. He was so tight, and a groan from deep within Jake melted free. He didn’t stop pushing in until there was nothing left to push. Jake’s body felt like jelly. His cock was throbbing, he could feel his heartbeat in it. It took so much self restraint to not just pound into that hot wet heat, but for the sake of his boyfriend he tried to keep himself still. He flooded Dwight with kisses, he needed to. Anything to occupy his mind from the pleasure that was sucking him in. 

“Y-… you okay?” Jake groaned. 

“Yeah, just… just give me a minute.”

“Okay,” he sighed. Kissing Dwight’s shoulder, he thought about how to ease the pain he must be feeling. He brought his hands up to Dwight’s chest and began to fiddle with his nipples, and Dwight hummed in approval. Jake sucked down on Dwight's neck, letting his hands caress his nipples, making them harden. Dwight whined as he craned his neck, granting Jake more access. Jake could feel Dwight begin to loosen up, so he continued playing with him. 

“You turn me on so bad,” he whispered in Dwight’s ear. “I love you. You feel so good.”

“Jake~”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m ready now.”

With Dwight’s permission, Jake inched his hips back, then slowly brought them back, pressing them against Dwight’s. He was penetrating him deep, and he should back up, but he couldn’t help it. His body was acting on its own. Jake repeated his movements until they became achingly slow thrusts, but he could feel Dwight loosening, relaxing and gripping him with pleasure building. Dwight sucked on Jake’s shoulder, nail bitten fingernails clawing at his back. Jake rocked his hips back and forth, his cock now sliding easily. Jake couldn’t keep a single thought, his brain was a haze, a blur. All he could think about was Dwight and the pleasure. He nearly forgot about Dwight’s prostate, but when he remembered it, he grabbed Dwight’s hips and began to aim. 

It took a while to find it again, but when he did, Dwight cried out in pleasure. Jake did his best to hit it each time. Occasionally he’d miss, but it didn’t bother Dwight in the slightest. By this point all the pain was gone and replaced with hot need. He scratched down Jake’s back, begging him to speed up, to fuck him until he couldn’t walk straight. He wanted to walk with a limp for the next hour. Between grunts, whines and moans, the two men would kiss each other. Hot tongues wrestling and exploring the crevasses of the others teeth and gums. Jake was yanking Dwight's hips to meet with his now hungry thrusts. Each time Jake hit his prostate, Dwight would practically squeal it felt so good. 

“Fuck Jake,” Dwight panted. “Harder- fuh-fuck me harder.”

Jake grabbed the underside of Dwight’s knees and hiked them above Dwight’s shoulders, almost pinning them to the ground and effectively folding Dwight in half. His legs were spread wider than he ever thought they could spread, and his ass stretched even wider for Jake, who was now ramming inside him with no signs of slowing. Dwight brought his hands close together, pawing at the saboteurs heated chest, occasionally pinching his nipples. A slur of Korean curses left Jake’s lips as he couldn’t keep his breathing in check. His brows were knotted tightly together, sitting low on his face, lips parted and sweat dripping down his temple and neck. Dwight’s ass spasmed as Jake hammered his cock into his sweet spot with a recklessness that Dwight didn’t know he’d be addicted to. Jake was pounding the breath out of him, and all he could do was moan for him. 

“Touch yourself,” Jake demanded. “I wanna see you do it.”

Dwight didn’t hesitate to grab his sopping wet cock and pump it. He timed his pumps with Jake’s thrusts, and soon Dwight was nothing short of screaming in ecstasy. They shared a sloppy, wet kiss, and Dwight realized he was reaching his end. He whined Jake's name, and the Asian moaned his name in response. Dwight’s toes curled as he tried to hold back, but his body was reaching its end. Jake’s hips were far better than he ever fantasized. His cock felt so much better than he ever dreamt of. He was a sweaty mess of a man, but somehow Jake liked him enough to spred him open and fuck him into oblivion. 

“Jake,” he squeaked. “M’ gonna cum.”

“Go ahead.”

“I want you to cum inside me.”

Those words nearly made Jake cum right there. He didn’t even know he could slam into Dwight harder until he said that. As he thundered down on him, suddenly Dwight shrieked out, his entire body violently spasming and he clawed red lines down Jake’s back as he came. His asshole clenched Jake’s cock so tight, that Jake spilled immediately, his voice tearing free from his throat. He thrusted a few more times until his body just gave out. He fell onto Dwight. Their bodies were slick with sweat, burning hot and exhausted. Jake finally let go of Dwight’s thighs, and they flopped, finally able to relax completely. They both were panting like they had ran a marathon. Dwight was a trembling mess, his body overwhelmed by the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had. The aftershocks of it still crashed into him in tsunami waves. He kissed Jake’s cheek, and his boyfriend didn’t have the strength yet to move. He was practically milked dry. 

When the two finally came down from their respective highs, Jake pulled out. He hardly had the strength to sit up, but he managed. They cleaned themselves off the best they could, then began to get dressed. Getting his clothes on was difficult for Dwight when his hips felt like shattered glass, just the way he wanted them to feel. He managed to slip all his clothes on from the waist down. As he slid his button up back on, he looked up and noticed Jake was somehow already fully dressed. Dwight raised a brow, but didn’t question it. He shoved his tie in his pocket, too lazy to bother to put it on. He didn’t even button his shirt, instead letting it stay open. Jake plucked the bottle of lube off the ground and tucked it into his pocket, then grabbed Dwight’s glasses and handed them over to him. Dwight slipped them on and blinked a few times. He sat on the ground, and Jake joined him. Kissing Jake’s cheek, he smiled at him. 

“That was amazing.”

“I hope. Did it hurt?”

“Only at first… but then it felt so good.”

“Good,” Jake grinned. He wrapped his arm around Dwight and pulled him to rest on his shoulder. He pulled them both into a lying position and closed his eyes. Their legs locked together and Dwight’s hand found Jake's. He held it in his own, and Jake smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. 

“Do… never mind.”

“What?” Jake asked. 

“I was just thinking… if we were in the real world… do you think that we’d… have this?”

“Like, _us_?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think we would’ve met.”

“No, no. I’m not meaning that. I mean, if we get out of here… do you think we’d still be together?”

“If you still wanted me, yes.”

“I could never _not_ want you,” Dwight looked him in the eye. He held Jake’s gaze as he spoke. “But would you want me?”

“Always.”

“But even though I’m not-” he continued, but Jake silenced him with a kiss. That single kiss eased Dwight's anxiety, and he rested his head on Jake’s chest. Jake thought for a moment. He ran through all his memories, what his life was like, everything he went through. He didn’t think Dwight could handle being homeless, but Jake wasn’t sure he could deal with society. 

“You know,” Jake started, catching Dwight's attention. “When I left my parents house, I had a dream.”

“What about?”

“Making a cabin in the woods. You know, cutting down the trees and making it all my own, just the way I wanted. Living out in the middle of nowhere, with just my thoughts and the nature around me. I always felt like if Heaven existed, that would be it.”

“It does sound nice.”

“If…,” Jake’s breath got caught in his throat as he blushed. “If we ever get out of here… will you join me?”

Dwight sat up and looked at him with surprised eyes. Jake sat up too and stared at him. Dwight thought for a moment before speaking up. 

“Join you, at your cabin?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it would be yours too. We could have a fireplace and an attic, a porch and even get a dog… if that’s what you’d want,” Jake paused and waited for Dwight to respond, but when he didn’t, Jake continued. “It might be a stupid dream, but if you were there it would really feel like Heaven for me.”

“I’d,” Dwight started, feeling tears well up in his eyes. “I’d love that so much.”

“Don’t cry,” Jake rubbed his cheek. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset, I-I just… I’ve never had a place where I felt at home, but what you just described… is it bad that I already miss it there and it doesn’t even exist yet?”

“No,” he smiled. “I miss it too.” The two shared a brief kiss before Jake spoke again. “When we get out of here, we're going home.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise,” Jake snickered. Dwight took his pinky and whipped a tear from his eye. He pressed his forehead against Jake's and closed his eyes. 

“I can’t wait to go home.”

“Me too.”

“Could I get my cats first?”

“You have cats?”

“Yeah,” Dwight smiled, letting go of Jake’s hand. He looked to the side and thought about his fuzzy feline friends. “Two. An orange and black one.”

“What are their names?”

“Snow White and Pumpkin Spice.”

Jake stared at Dwight blankly. Dwight raised a brow, confused by the look. Jake said simply, “and you were really in the closet?”

“Shut up!” Dwight playfully pushed Jake’s chest. “It’s not that gay!”

“Pumpkin Spice? That’s like… white girl gay.”

“Fuck you,” Dwight laughed, covering his face. 

“Why Snow White?”

“Okay so, you know the Snow White animation memes?”

“No?”

“Oh right,” Dwight muttered, remembering Jake was living in the woods without technology. “Okay, so, people online kinda make fun of the Disney movie Snow White because in some shots her eyes are kinda.. Durped and my black cat… she’s kinda… wall eyed, and I just thought the name fit.”

Jake let out a hardy laugh. He flopped back into a lying position and giggled some more, before drawing his voice into a stereotypical white girls. “Oh my Gawd, Pumpkin Spice is sooooo good, Veronica, you just have to try-”

“Knock it off,” Dwight laughed, softly slamming his fists into Jake’s chest. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’m a stereotypical white girl, now stop making fun of my cat.”

“I’m not making fun of your cat, I'm making fun of you.”

“Har-har, you’re the one who fucked me.”

“Yeah, and I loved it too,” Jake wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into his chest. He squeezed his ass before kissing the top of his head. “Seriously though, have you blown someone before? Because that was unreal.”

“I’ve watched a lot of porn, and read a lot of fanfics.”

“Fanfics? About what?”

“... Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.”

“Who?”

Dwight sprung up as he stared aghast. “Captain America and The Winter Soldier?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Jake cluelessly smiled. Dwight’s face was completely offended. 

“I’m… I’m actually mad about that.”

“Wait, don’t be mad,” Jake chuckled. “Who are they?”

“They’re… you know what, when we get out of here, I’m getting my cats and we're making the cabin, then after that I’m forcing you to watch the MCU movies.”

“I don’t know what those are,” Jake cluelessly smiled again. “Are they good?”

“If you were anyone else I’d probably yell at you, but since you’re cute, I’ma let it pass.”

“Goodie,” Jake snickered. “Now can we fucking cuddle already? I’m lonely over here.”

Dwight grumbled something under his breath, probably something about the MC… whatever movies. The two got in their snuggling positions and their conversation ended. Jake played with Dwight's soft, short hair and Dwight hummed. He smiled and removed his glasses, tucking them to the side safely. He nuzzled into Jake’s chest more and Jake kissed his forehead. They laid there, fantasizing about their future out of here. As long as they had each other, there was hope, and nothing, not even the Entity, could take that away from them. As they began to drift off to sleep, Dwight couldn’t help but think; 

‘I can’t wait to tell Meg about this.’

_**The End.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da~ That's the end of the Jake x Dwight story, so I hope you guys liked it! 
> 
> Also, when Jake mentioned Dwight living with him, I personally pictured it as Jake's way of "proposing". Not quite proposing as in getting married, having a wedding with rings etc, but more of a "I love you and I want you to be by my side forever." Jake is such a loner, so for him to invite him to stay at his dream house, you know he loves the crap outta him. 
> 
> One last thing, I changed up some of the previous chapter names so they'd be easier to categorize. Now that I'm done with this version of Dwight x Jake, I want to make it easier to differentiate the different versions of them. I felt like it would be complicated if there'd be multiple part 2's and whatnot. So, this story is now called Lover Boy and the Ghostface chapters are now called Obsessed. That way they're easier to find. I should've done it like that from the start, but hey, ya live ya learn. 
> 
> So, yes, there will be more Dwake oneshots, but they will not be related to this story. 
> 
> Requests are still open. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day or night! I look forward to interacting with you guys more!


	13. Dwight x Jake: Drugged in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight wasn’t sure how he ended up with his ass in the air, face to the dirt and a cock thrusting in and out of him, but whatever caused it, he didn’t want it to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains non consensual drug use, so feel free to skip this one. 
> 
> It does have consensual sex however! 
> 
> P.S. This is my second attempt at someones request. Jake fully clothed, Dwight fully naked. Hopefully the requester will like this one better.

Dwight wasn’t sure how he ended up with his ass in the air, face to the dirt and a cock thrusting in and out of him, but whatever caused it, he didn’t want it to stop. His brain felt like goopy puddy, a mess. Whatever it was that the Clown had chucked at his head, it sure did take an effect on him. Jake too, being the one ramming his hips into Dwight's. It seemed like only seconds ago Jake was walking in the trail, searching for his next generator, when he heard moans and gasps for air. Assuming someone was injured, he peeked around a corner to assess the situation, but what he had found shocked him to the core. Dwight had been laying on his back, stark naked with three fingers in his ass, and his free hand was wildly jerking himself off. Before Jake could turn on his heel and give the man some privacy, the overwhelming aroma of the Clowns drug wafted into his nostrils and took effect on him. He was suddenly so overwhelmingly aware of Dwight’s rosy pink lips, his wide pupils and the magenta colored liquid dripping down from his hair and now sliding down on his chest and back. 

“Fuh-uck~,” Dwight whined, fingers trying to find purpose in the dirt. His back arched as Jake thrusted into his sweet spot, making his toes curl. Truth be told, Jake wouldn’t even have to aim to make it feel good. Due to the drug, they’re both hyper sensitive and even the most platonic of touches could send them over the edge. They both are flying high on cloud nine and nothing else but the pleasure mattered at the moment. Dwight was getting pounded to the point it would be a miracle if he walked out of this trial without a limp, and he needed more. He could feel Jake’s gloved hands gripping his hips hard, sure to leave bruises, and the sharp feeling of the zipper scraping and slamming into his backside with each thrust. The mountain man didn’t even bother undressing when he found Dwight. The fire in his groin was too much to bear. Each hammer of Jake’s hips left sickeningly sweet pain and would make Dwight squeal in bliss. 

“Jake,” he moaned, one hand finding its way to Jake's leg. He mindlessly pawed at him, his nails digging into Jake’s pants. He gripped them like a lifeline. Jake didn’t respond with words, instead he let out a growl from deep within his throat and gripped the nerds hips tighter. He yanked them back to meet with his punishing thrusts. Dwight was nearly screaming, his body clinging to Jake’s cock as if his life depended on it. Everything felt so good. It was like they died and went to heaven. 

“Fuck, you’re good,” Jake finally exclaimed, feeling his cock being swallowed up again and again. He threw his head back before glancing back down and groaning the word, “fuuuck".

Suddenly Jake pulled out of Dwight, causing the leader to whine loudly at the loss. The both of them were being loud and reckless, though it was neither of their faults. The drug had clouded their minds and neither were aware of the sheer volume they were emitting. Dwight peeked behind his shoulder to see the survivor, but was shocked when he realized he couldn’t see clearly. He must’ve lost his glasses by the pounding he had received, but little did he know, it was far from over. Jake grabbed Dwight by the sides, just under his armpits, and within a blink, Dwight’s back was slammed into the brick wall that was nearby. Jake hooked his hands under Dwight’s knees, and Dwight practically screamed when Jake shoved himself inside him again. 

“Oh God Jake!”

Jake silenced Dwight’s words with his lips against Dwight’s puffy ones. Dwight wasn’t sure whose tongue was in whose mouth, but he could taste Jake’s saliva against his own. He clung to Jake’s parka. He would wrap his legs around his hips, but Jake’s vice grip on his thighs made that impossible. Jake was panting like he was running a marathon, his brows low on his face, mouth hanging open and eyes fixated on the part where he disappears inside Dwight. He yanked Dwight’s legs further open, and keened in pleasure when he felt the leader clench around him. He could feel each spasm and throb as his ass stretched and clung to him. He could feel his insides squeezing him with each hip breaking thrust. Jake lifted Dwight’s right knee up over his shoulder and used his free hand to grab Dwight’s neck. He forced Dwight’s jaw up, shoving his tongue down his throat, practically fucking his mouth with it. Dwight whimpered and nipped at the aggressive tongue, begging for more. 

A particularly fierce thrust had Dwight nearly in tears. The pleasure was making him see stars. Between the drug and the pleasure, Dwight’s voice had gotten so high, he was a pitch or two from a woman's voice. Jake’s hand clenched tighter around Dwight’s throat, and it stole the air from his lungs. Dwight moaned out, abruptly climaxing hard. His cum splattered on his stomach, along with Jake’s jacket. Jake groaned as he felt Dwight's inner walls grip him forcefully. It was like a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around his groin. His hips faltered for a moment, basking in the feeling, but he refused to let himself cum yet. Dwight, on the other hand, was starting the process of recovering from an intense orgasm, one that left his whole body trembling. However, much to his shock, he nearly got hard again right away. He gave a confused moan as he realized his body wasn’t done yet, and Jake picked up the speed once again. 

“You like that?” Jake said in a gravely, dark tone. He wasn’t acting like himself but Dwight didn’t care. It will be a shock if either remembers this after the trial. Dwight kissed him hard. 

“Yeah,” he whined, gripping Jake’s jacket. If his fingernails were longer, instead of the stubby nail bitten ones he has, he’d probably dig holes into the fabric. "Please don't stop," Dwight begged. "Please, God, don't stop."

"God-fuck," Jake yelped, his hips shuddering as he suddenly came. He groaned and pushed his body into Dwight's, who was grinding down on him. His breath got caught in his throat, as he let out a sigh. Pressing his forehead into Dwight's cheek, he caught his breath. It didn’t take long for his body to recover and his dick to grow hard again. Once his body was ready for more, he pulled out and practically dropped Dwight onto his back, the grass and mud sticking to his bare skin. Spreading the leaders legs, he pushed back in, making him let out a deep moan. He unleashed himself on Dwight then, pounding into him with no intent to stop. He could feel the knees of his worn pants getting soaked from the mud, his shoes creating small divots into the ground, but he only used it as leverage to slam into Dwight harder. All Dwight could do was yank Jake’s hair to pull him into a needy kiss. 

“God Jake you’re so good,” Dwight panted into their kiss. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he whined, wrapping his legs around the woodsman. His belt pinched at his calves, but Dwight couldn’t care less. In a moment of clarity, Jake realized how rough he was being, how punishing his thrusts are. It would be a miracle if he didn’t break Dwight’s hips. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“Fuck no,” Dwight bit his lip to try and quiet his voice. It seems like the drug is beginning to wear off. “You can go harder.”

Jake didn’t think that was possible, but those words lit a fire in him and suddenly he was no longer in control of himself. His scarf was practically choking him, his clothes constricting him and making his body hotter than lava, but Dwight was the coals to the fire. He pinned Dwight to the ground and hammered into him, their hips creating loud slapping noises. Their grunts and moans couldn’t be concealed and they were reaching their peaks. Dwight constricted his legs around Jake’s hips and yanked him with each thrust, making Jake pound the air from his lungs. Dwight moaned and whined, until suddenly he came with a shout, eyebrows lifting, eyes squeezing shut and mouth agape. The sight of it made Jake come to his own end, his body collapsing onto Dwight and in the heat of the moment, Jake sunk his teeth into his own wrist, needing to hide his voice. 

They laid there, breathing heavily, just trying to catch their breath. They were drenched in sweat, skin and clothes sticky from Dwight’s cum, and absolutely filthy from mud. Dwight pet Jake’s hair as he came down from his high, legs still wrapped firmly around the saboteur. Removing his teeth from his wrist, Jake looked at his friend and blushed slightly. Dwight licked his way into his mouth and sucked his tongue. Jake groaned and kissed him just as passionately. 

“M’ sorry,” he breathed, pulling out of Dwight. Dwight gave a sheepish grin and rested his head on the ground. 

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t know what came over m-”

“Jake,” Dwight lifted his head up and tried to rise into a seated position, but he winced. Instead he propped himself on his elbows. With his face growing flushed, he said, “I… I liked it… it’s fine. D… did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“We… we could do it again… sometime… if you want.”

Jake grinned. “Liked it that much?”

“That obvious?” Dwight giggled, rubbing the red out of his cheek. “I also… kinda like you.”

“For real?”

“I know, it’s dumb, but I-”

“I like you too.”

“You do?” Dwight’s eyes widened in excitement and surprise. “I thought you liked Claudette?”

“Claudette? She’s like my sister!” Jake gave a fake frown before chuckling and standing up. He found Dwight’s glasses and handed them back to him. Dwight slipped them on, then took Jake’s hand and slowly stood up. His hips ached, but he liked that they did. 

“So… are we like boyfriends now?”

“Sure,” Jake shrugged with a smile. “Unless you don’t think you can take me again.”

Dwight had already slipped his pants and underwear on, and he stepped forward to the still fully clothed Jake. He rested his hands on his hips like they belonged there and gave him a feather-like kiss. “I could take you, but could you give it to me?”

“Always.”

“You’re gonna have to prove that later.”

“Oh I will, and you’re gonna regret doubting me.”

“We’ll see,” Dwight smiled. “We should probably help.”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded. 

As they walked away, the figure in the distance had finally tucked himself back into his pants. His giant belly heaving, and his face paint dripping down his jaw with sweat. Kenneth gave an aroused sigh as he swished the bottle in his hand. Whatever it is he did differently in this recipe, he sure as hell has to replicate it, because it earned him the best orgasm he’s had since becoming the Entities killer. He always enjoyed watching the leader and the woodsman pretend like they weren’t flirting with each other, and he always had urges to watch the two fuck, but he never thought he’d actually be blessed enough to see it. He coughed and grinned, before thinking ‘I guess dreams really do come true’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, I hope you all enjoyed. It was fun to write. I've been uninspired recently, so don't expect many updates for a while. Anyways, I hope you all are doing well and can't wait to interact with you guys!


	14. Meg x Nea: Race to the Finish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and Nea have a habit of racing, but both of them take challenges very seriously. One girl is fast and determined, the other agile and cocky. 
> 
> Who will win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's the long awaited Meg x Nea fic. I know some of you have been really excited for it, so sorry it took so long. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

“Wanna race?” 

“Huh?” Nea breathed, slightly taken aback. She stopped prodding at the campfire with her stick to look up at the voice. It was Meg. Meg had her hair tied into her signature braids, and wore a baseball cap, a red hoodie with a blue undershirt, running pants and a pair of sneakers. All courtesy of the Entity. Sometimes it supplied new outfits for survivors, and the survivors were nearly always grateful to wear something new and clean, even if it was only temporary. Meg stood in front of Nea, one leg kicked out casually as the other supported her weight. One hand on her hip and the other resting in her hoodie pocket. 

“Yeah,” Nea finally spoke up, rising to her feet. Recently the two girls have started a new habit of racing each other. Truth be told, it began as an argument. They argued who was the better runner. Meg argued that she was faster and quieter, able to run for a long period of time at great speed. Nea rebutted that speed isn't everything, and being able to land properly and utilizing your surroundings were just as important as raw speed. Both girls were strong headed, so they decided to settle things with a race. Meg had won their first race, giving her a blast of confidence and Nea a small grudge. She never took kindly to losing. 

The girls announced they’d be racing again, and Feng jumped up, excitedly pulling Claudette and Yui to follow along. The five girls all took position, leaving the rest of the campers at the fire, lightly chuckling amongst themselves. Claudette, like before, would be the starter, standing near the edge of camp. Yui would be at the mid way point, ready to yell words of encouragement and to make sure no foul play would be implemented by the two competitors. Feng would be waiting at the ending point, somewhat near the fire. Meg and Nea would run in a ovular shape, akin to a NASCAR track. Feng, being competitive herself, has a keen eye for winners. If the two racers look like they’ll tie, Feng will surely be able to tell who won. With all girls in place, the race was almost ready to begin. Meg stretched her legs and arms out, and Nea did the same. She cracked her neck as she watched the redhead secure her shoe laces. 

“What'sa matter? Think you’re gonna trip?”

“Heh,” Meg laughed. “Nah, just making sure I’ll leave you in the dust. Again.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The two racers took a knee, hands placed on the forest floor and rears high. Claudette stood on their makeshift sideline. It was now her cue to start the chase. 

“Alright,” Claudette began. “No pushing, shoving or tripping. Stay on the trail.”

Nea nodded, heart pounding. Meg gave the shy girl a look of determination before Claudette continued on. 

“Ready?”

A shift of weight. 

“Set?”

A deep breath. 

“Go!”

Both girls darted up, running as fast as they could. Meg got a quick burst of speed, quickly gaining some distance between the other racer, but Nea knew she’d eventually slow down. Meg gets tired after a while, Nea won’t as easily. She’s good at conserving energy. The sound of rushing footsteps filled the air, and Claudette let out an audible laugh. Nea had her eyes locked onto Meg, whether it be her braids or feet, she was locked on target. Meg on the other hand was glued to each trail bend, jumping over tree roots and broken branches. Each jump slowed her down ever so slightly, but every jump only urged Nea faster. Soon they were side by side again. The sharp side glance Meg shot the other made Nea feel a rush of excitement pour into her chest. All she could do was give her opponent a snarky smirk. 

Another jump, this one over a fallen tree had Nea a few yards ahead of Meg. Nea was gaining speed. Her beanie was keeping in all her sweat, and she ignored the damp feeling forming in the fabric. Nea leapt over another log, giddy knowing that this time she has to win the race. Meg had already hit her slow down point, and her sprint was turning into a simple run, if not at times a jog. Nea was practically flying down the trail bends, unable to contain the smile on her face, but it quickly ended when she realized her problem. Soon they’ll be coming up to a straight point in the trail. No sharp bends, no obstacles, just a straight flat area. She internally cursed. Meg must be saving energy. If she blasts through that area, she’ll leave Nea behind. Flat ground was always Megs strong point. Nea can’t let her pass. If she passes, she loses. 

When the straight path came into view, Nea glanced back. The look in Megs eyes confirmed that she knows the straight shot is coming. Damn it! She was conserving energy! Nea lost her footing for a moment, but quickly recovered it. Her head snapped back to the trail in front of her and tried to sprint faster. The straight path hit and Meg sprint forward. Her legs moving fast, faster than before. Her arms came up and down with her hands balled into fists. Meg got closer and closer to her, but Nea predicted this. She kept shifting from side to side, making sure Meg would remain behind her. A few seconds passed with the girls fighting for first place, before Meg took a quick step to the left, then swiftly turned to sprint past Nea’s right side. Meg couldn’t miss the look of shock and frustration burn on the other girls face as she dashed ahead of her. 

Meg could practically smell the anger on Nea, and she had to bite back a chuckle. She darted forward, and the two racers fought for the title of first, but Meg held the title strong. Soon they were back to the rough path, plenty of curves, roots that are likely to trip someone and rope like thorns Nea often called ‘chainsaws’ because they wrap around your ankle and shred it if you’re not careful. Nea was much better at traversing rough ground, being an urban explorer and tagging buildings aided her with situations like this. Meg may be fast, but Nea is a cat, good at landing on her feet. She was only a few feet behind Meg, body aching to pass her. She hardly noticed when they passed Yui, who shouted encouragement their way. The race is halfway over. 

The air was filled with pants and heavy footsteps. Nea tried repeatedly to get in front of Meg, but the other girl denied her access, constantly jumping in front of her to keep her from passing. It wasn’t until one of the chainsaw thorns wrapped around Megs ankle that Meg finally slowed down. She hissed in pain, swiftly coming to a stop. Nea spared not a second to sprint past her, kicking up dirt as she sprinted. Meg practically growled as she glared up at the girl. She tore the thorns from her ankle, blood dripping down into her shoe. When she glanced back up, Nea was already out of sight. Nea continued on, pace never breaking. She had to win, she had to beat Meg. She was determined to show her that she wasn’t the best. That Nea was great too. 

When Feng was in her sight, her body filled with joy. She was so close. Nea’s chest and legs burned like acid, her breath hot and lungs ached, but she was going to win. She wanted to slow down, but she refused. As she thought of all the ways she could make a mockery out of Meg, her opponents rapid footsteps snuck up behind her. Nea snapped her head back and was horrified to see Meg dashing forward and mere feet behind her. Before she could even turn her head forward, Meg dashed past her. With all the fury in her heart, Nea sprinted as fast as she could, but she was no match for Meg. The redhead dashed past Feng, who exclaimed her victory, and Nea was fuming mad. 

When she got to the end of the race, she was angered even more by the stupid grin that was plastered on Megs face. Meg crossed her arms and triumphantly grinned, tipping her chin up at the other girl. Nea’s brows furrowed tightly together, panting heavily. When she regained her breath, she tore the beanie from her head, exposing her short black hair. She frowned and bared her teeth at Meg, but before she could get a word in, Meg tisked and stepped forward. She stuck out her hand for a handshake. 

“Good game,” she smiled, the victory in her eyes. She held her hand in the air, ready to be shook, but Nea knew this game, and glared at the other girl. 

“Whatever,” she spat before looking away, making Meg lower her hand. 

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser!”

“Very convincing,” Meg laughed. She placed her hand on Nea’s shoulder. “It was just a race. No biggie.”

“No biggie,” she repeated with a scowl. “Just you wait until I win, then let's see if it’s ‘no biggie’.”

“Well, first you gotta win,” Meg laughed, making Nea’s face sour more. Feng snickered and stepped forward. She wrapped an arm around Meg and shook her gently. She grinned up at the redhead, and all Nea could think was how badly she wanted to smack that smile off Meg’s face. Truth be told, she was a sore loser. She always hated to lose. Her whole life she’s been the loser. A person gets sick of being second best. Nea turned and began to stomp off, aiming to go to the campfire. 

“Nea,” Meg called out, but Feng patted her on the back. 

“Let her go. If she wants to be a baby about it, just let her.”

Meg watched as the other girl walked away, but took in a gasp when the fog rolled in and captured her. A trial calls. Meg watched Feng for a moment, waiting to see if she’d disappear too, but only Nea was chosen out of the three. Meg sighed. She felt a little bad for making Nea so upset, especially right before a trial, but was she supposed to do? Let her win? Meg has always believed if you won because someone let you, then you didn’t win. She wondered if she let Nea win one time, maybe it would give her some sort of peace of mind? Meg rubbed at her ankle, still slightly bleeding, but already beginning to scab. She didn’t really mind though, after all, it was better than a hook in her back or a blade in her throat. She’s been through much worse than a simple shredded ankle from a thorn vine. As Feng and Meg went back to the campfire, Meg plotted her next move. Should she let Nea win for once, or should she make her work for it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the chapter, I hope you enjoyed! It was gonna be longer, but I got stuck. Let me know if you'd like a Part 2 and I'll add it to my list of things to write! Requests are still open as well, so if you have any pairings you'd like to see, let me know and I might get to them! 
> 
> Also, if I am to do a part 2 to this, who would you like to win? Meg, or Nea? Whoever gets the most votes will be the winner! 
> 
> Another thing, I've never wrote about lesbians and to be honest I'm not sure to write smut, so I might avoid it for them. However, if I change my mind down the road, who could you see being the top and bottom between the two girls? 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, as always, and I look forward to reading your comments and interacting with you guys! Stay safe out there!


End file.
